PITCH
by uberneko-zero
Summary: L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU
1. Economy of Effort

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 1

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

**Disclaimer:** Characters are the property of the writer Tsugumi Ohba and illustrator Takeshi Obata. There may be a few original characters within the scope of the fic - those'll be mine, as is the plot. (I think we all know which elements are from the original story.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

_

* * *

_

Part 1: (Economy of Effort)

It was dark, crowded and stifling in the bar at 11 p.m. The A/C was probably on full blast, but the cloying smell of fraternizing humanity was thick in the air and the warmth of recycled breath was not to be defeated. It was uncomfortable and disheartening.

L stared down into his glass as he perched on the chair at his small table. The large ball of chipped ice clinked softly as he took a tentative sip of the whiskey, noting the unfamiliar burning and tingling sensation as he partook of alcohol for the first time.

It was an experiment.

Everything in him was repelled by the setting, but the falsely comforting absence of proper lighting. He was suffocating. Sharp peals of laughter from the people around him were stabbing his nerves mercilessly, as if to kill him faster. The occasional whispers reached his ears, and their mocking was hard to ignore.

What was a man of nearly 26 years of age doing in a bar drinking alone?

He wasn't surprised they found it odd, or that it was incomprehensible that he kept to himself.

But this was only a test.

He was not looking for companionship. Vague thoughts of such had long since died through repeated failures. He needed too much from someone for there to actually be a proper match in existence. He needed a mind and more than casual banter. He needed depth. He needed someone special. He needed someone to prove to him that there was a mind worth delving into that was not his own.

But in the absence of that...there was this.

He was testing his limits. He was challenging himself. Pushing the limits of what he could endure and exposing himself to things he had previously only avoided. To hide in the seclusion of work, and haunt only the corridors of his own mind, would lead him only to decay.

He'd had no idea that alcohol could burn upon his lips in an almost pleasant fashion. He'd held too strongly that the substance would kill his precious brain cells to try it before now. He believed it still, but sacrificed them to this greater purpose.

He had to break out of this cage. He could feel his mind curling in about him, closing steadily and growing in deeper labyrinthine spirals until he could hardly find the wherewithal to see these people for what they were. Humans. Beings with the capacity for emotion, love, sadness, joy. Hopes. Desires. Or was it that he was ceasing to see himself as human... perhaps it was the metallic hum of his own mind that was warping, convincing him that they were the abnormal ones.

Another whisper drifted by.

A tall brunet spared him a glance as the blonde on his arm commented about the way he sat.

He waited until they had passed before forcing his legs into the standard human seating position. As if jointed with stretched springs, his legs longed to assume the tucked position they were so accustomed to. He denied them that, forcing himself to learn normal. He had worn shoes, after all. This was the next logical step.

He would learn these things and adjust, before doing so was an option he could no longer perform, or no longer cared to.

L had finished half of his drink, which was becoming more watered down by the minute, when his cell phone hummed in his pants pocket. Caller ID displayed the name: Watari. He let the call go to voicemail before flipping open the phone and holding it to his head. The message was essentially what he'd expected. Watari was asking him if he might please disclose his intended destination if he insisted on going out like this. It was reasonable, but L never knew quite where his wanderings would take him. Last night, it had been a strip club. He hadn't realized the nature of the establishment until he'd stepped inside. Even with his new, hellbent fortitude to broaden his horizons, the sight of exotic dancers proved too much for him. Spurring his decision of a simple bar for tonight's location, was the idea that he may in fact need alcohol to help him prevail through something so foreign as people dancing erotically for money.

He wasn't trying to be judgmental. In a way, he was just exceedingly sheltered. Worldliness defeated the naive. The gifted naive were no exception.

Watari also wanted a resolution, or at least progress on the latest case.

L was not neglecting his duties... always, in the back of his mind, he was working. Answers took time.

Like tea, the facts and evidence sometimes had to steep. Rushing it would accomplish nothing; staring at a screen would not help it along. It was just as well that he spent his time on _this_ project while he waited. He could claim it as the time off of work that normal people were given. Free time, if you will.

He sighed as he finished the last of the whiskey, drinking up the last of his excuse to stay longer. It was also the last of his justification for tormenting himself any longer.

Back to work, then.

He stood, glancing at the thin cardboard coaster on which he had mindlessly doodled. Some of it was pure abstract lines, some of it was pieces of theory or equations that his mind happened to spit out. The embarrassing part was the gothic-style L that was messily scripted into the corner. He almost took the thing with him, so he could destroy it at a later time, but he made himself leave it there.

It was all a part of his project... this would serve to desensitize him, awful though it felt right now.

He pushed the coaster's existence out of his mind and left the bar.

The night air felt refreshing.

It was a shame it was starting to rain.

* * *

The next night was much like the last; and the one before, that and the one before that.

L arrived at the bar early enough to attain a table. He ordered whiskey.

Now, one might ask, if one knew L well enough to know of his sweet tooth, _'Why whiskey?'_

It was simple.

He ordered whiskey because it was exactly the type of thing he _wouldn't_ order, given his preference. Everything amounted to that - everything he was doing now was done with the aim of putting himself outside of his comfort zone. He needed to be so far out of that zone that he didn't even recognize it anymore. Only then could he stop.

He dreaded the step where he would be forcing himself to interact with these people... to _socialize_.

_The strip club would be easier_, he thought.

Today, he not only wore shoes, he even put in and tied the laces.

The ice clinked in his glass as he drank.

_Sure and steady wins the war._

His legs protested the awkward position he made them take since sitting down. People were staring less, he noticed with satisfaction. Not that they weren't staring at all... now it was more like 8 out of every 10 people - a definite improvement over 9.

Unsure of what to do with himself for the remainder, he began to scribble on the coaster. He kept a tiny pen in his pocket in the off chance it would be useful. He rarely needed to write things down to assist his own memory, but at times needed to do so for others. It was normal to carry a pen, was it not?

L felt eyes on the back of his head, which did not surprise him. He ignored the sensation and finished his drink. He'd run out of scribble room.

He left the empty glass of the table and went to secure another. _What do these people do here for so many hours? Are their companions that engaging? Was it the promise of sex that kept them coming back so frequently?_He was recognizing faces now. The regulars. Many of them did end up leaving with someone on their arm, usually someone new.

L came back to his table. His empty glass and coaster were gone.

_Must've cleared them away already_, he mused, fishing for his pen to start work on the new piece of cardboard. This time, he doodled the L first, so he'd have to stare at it for the interim. Why a gothic L? He had no idea. Perhaps it was a challenge to his lack of artistry, and a slight jab at his pride. _The Great Detective L_. So many people believed prestige or wealth could make you happy, but it was not so. He was proof.

Here he was, staring at a ripely pretentious letter that signified the whole of what he was and what he did, fixating on how the lines were wobbly and imprecise, merely because it was easier to criticize his penmanship than the state of his personal affairs.

_L Lawliet, you win at LIFE._

A crowd was passed by, boisterous and jostling. He pulled his arms closer to his body, trying to stay out of the way. He did not want to unintentionally engage in communication with anyone yet - be it friendly or rude. He took another sip of his alcohol, now more used to the numbing effect it had on his brain, and settled down to fill in the last two thirds of the white coaster while his mind wandered.

"Excuse me."

L ignored the voice at first, but was made to look up when a tan hand splayed upon the table and the words were repeated.

He was greeted by a tall brunet man who was flashing him an utterly fake smile. L sighed. "Can I help you?" he asked in a monotone, nervously clenching his glass as he forced himself not to cover the coaster.

The brunet looked mildly taken aback, brown eyes widening minutely, but quickly settled back into his cordial expression. "I was wondering if I might borrow your pen?"

L stifled the irritation that surfaced. _Typical. Only when they__** need**__ something._ In the spirit of furthering his experiment, though, he offered his pen. "Of course." The young man's hands were graceful, he absently noted as he was relieved of his small silver capsule pen. He was reluctant to part with it - it was custom-made. And, he happened to like it.

"Thank you," the brunet said, turning his smile a few notches brighter. "I'll return it as soon as possible."

L nodded as if it were no big deal, wondering what might have inspired such a well-dressed, charisma-oozing individual to seek him out. Would one of the bar's pens not suffice? The brunet melded back into the crowd.

Would he ever see his pen again?

Surely, he would. If the man tried to avoid it, it would be a simple matter to catch him on the way out.

Three hours later and L was tapping his fingers on the table, still stubbornly awaiting the return of his pen. He had other pens at home, but that was not the _point_. He _liked_ that one.

At 2 a.m., the barkeep shuffled by his table to tell him they were closing. Now.

L was furious. Here he was, trying to extend and better himself, and some classily-dressed brunet with perfect hair had STOLEN his pen. After L had so _kindly_ lent it to him!

He stood angrily and stalked out of the bar, not seeing someone ghost up to his table afterwards to collect his coaster.

* * *

"Something the matter, L?" Watari asked him after he arrived home.

L shut the door of the house they were renting and locked it behind him. "No. Nothing at all." He managed to keep his voice flat, but the effort. _The effort._ Just who the hell did that pen-stealing prick think he was?! He started up the stairs. _Score one for humanity_, he thought scathingly.

"There is strawberry cake in the refrigerator," Watari called after him. "I purchased it this evening."

L made himself pause. "I'll have some later... How was your date?" It was proper etiquette to ask. He had to get used to doing these things.

"Lovely, thank you." Watari sounded pleased.

Watari had started seeing a British woman he'd encountered often at the bakery L favored. He hadn't met her as of yet, though eventually his mentor was going to request it of him. L nodded and continued his trek up the stairs.

One might wonder why on earth he was obsessing over a pen he could have re-crafted with his surplus funds...

The answer to that was simple: _It was the principle of the thing_.

L opened the door to his room and flicked on the light.

Who the hell was that guy? If L saw him again, he would allow himself to sidestep some of his self-imposed benevolence... UGH, the audacity!

He took a deep breath and pushed the pen thing from his mind, firmly, and settled in at his computer. Wiggling his mouse brought the screen to life and he dove into a world of facts and statistics, eager to work on the current case, a world he could understand.

* * *

TBC

**A/N:** This took a while to come out, because my beta was very busy. I had her proof two reaaaaally long aBfSF chapters in lieu of this, because the other story is on weekly updates.


	2. Porcelain

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 2

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N: **(ETA – may 2010) FF ate a lot of the formatting like section breaks. I am going back and laboriously correcting this. Also, while I am at it, switching 'brunette' to the proper 'brunet' for boys and other such things. ;P

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 2: (Porcelain)

The next night, L took a detour.

He almost went to back to the bar filled with the blazing determination to _get back what was his, dammit_, when he reconsidered.

What better way to distract himself from something so at odds with his goal of being able to be one with these people than to make himself endure something _even more_ painful? The strip club.

That may sound masochistic to the casual observer, but L was certain that he was not. He merely had something he had set out to achieve and, by god, he was going to do it. Besides, they had liquor at the club. That would help.

Today he not only wore shoes, laces and all, but jeans that practically fit him. Little steps. He'd even combed his hair out properly, though you wouldn't know by looking at it. The changes made him ill-at-ease, but the thought of stepping into the exotic dancers club outstripped them all. Ha.

This city harbored a pedestrian society, so things were conveniently located close to other things. This pleased L. He was not overly fond of cars.

The strip club, "Tiddleywink", had garish pink, neon lights. How had he not realized the nature of this establishment the first time? It was embarrassingly obvious, now. Naivety meet Worldliness. See? He felt much better equipped already.

Once inside, he found the darkness reeked of cigarette smoke and some unnameable thing he didn't bother himself to dwell on. A spotlight was trained on the stage where a girl in her twenties was shaking everything in her possession to a tune with a lot of bass. The crowd around the stage seemed to enjoy this immensely, and had no qualms about vocalizing the sentiment.

L made himself sit at a table near the front - open due to the fact that it was a weeknight - despite wanting to do otherwise. He cursed the brunet with _his_ pen for forcing him into this place. He looked at the dancer, watched her writhe and contort and drive her audience wild, and wondered, really, what was the point?

"Wouldya like a drink?" a female server asked him with a smile, while smacking bubblegum obnoxiously.

"Something strong," L replied. "Surprise me."

"You got it," she smacked, flouncing away.

God help him, this was awful. He had little to no interest in the display on the stage, and the company he kept in the audience was less savory than that in the bar. Mainly because he was somewhat horrified by the lascivious gazes being fixed on the dancing girl, but largely because they were stuffing money into her skimpy, ruffled thong underwear.

When L's drink arrived, he sipped it gratefully, not caring what it was, blessing the haze it cast over this whole affair.

See... if he was a masochist, he would make himself stuff bills into the underoos of the dancers. But he wasn't, so he wouldn't.

He frowned into his drink. What was **in** this thing? This was hitting him harder than anything he'd ever had prior. He flagged down the waitress, who had a special smile ready, just for him.

"Long Island Iced Tea," she said when asked, smacking her gum coyly. "Double strength. Looked like you needed to unwind, sugar. Enjoy it." She patted him on the shoulder with a wink, and disappeared with her tray of drinks.

(Many hours later, he would be "enjoying it" for an undetermined amount of time in the bathroom at home, chalking the misery up to "experience". But for now, he was blissfully unaware of that future excitement.)

L listened to the music as dancer after dancer hit the stage, determining 20 seconds into the second song that it was not to his liking. As such, he analyzed it intently, trying to identify what exactly about it the 'normal' people found appealing. At the end of his first drink, his brain hampered to an absurd extent, he decided it was the catchy beats. It most certainly wouldn't be the deep and compelling lyrics. Chorus, verse, chorus, chorus. Under 50 words. He could probably write a better song if he were of a mind to attempt it.

There was the occasional tune that offered more than the rest and he found himself tapping his fingers to the beat, appeased by the upgrade in skill. Maybe it wasn't so bad.

Then again, maybe he was just appallingly drunk.

He signaled to the serving girl with the gum, _Wedy_, she'd told him. Resisting the urge to relate the general unattractiveness that gum-smacking presented to the other party -she'd grow out of it- he requested another drink.

The young blonde cocked her head at him. "I don't know, sweetie, you seem like you've had enough."

"Isn't it in your best monetary interest to serve me, regardless?"

She frowned a little. "Well, sure, but..."

"I'll have a rum and coke," he stated plainly. He was not slurring. He was very careful to enunciate each word so that it came out perfectly coherent.

She raised a sculpted eyebrow at him. "Suuure. Whatever you say, hun. And mixing alcohols...don't blame me for the fallout." The last, she said under her breath, but he heard it anyway. He dismissed it as unimportant and smiled at her back. He could handle it, he was sure, despite her lack of confidence.

* * *

The passing of the remainder of that night did not bear mentioning. Suffice it to say, he had become intimately acquainted with the porcelain goddess upon somehow making it back home, and was not eager to repeat the experience any time soon. Or ever.

A profuse amount of water kept him from feeling too wildly out of sorts the next day, and held off the expected headache, allowing him to persevere with work with only an upset stomach to hamper him.

When he came downstairs for breakfast, having put in a solid three hours on the case by 9 o'clock after two hours of fitful sleep, he surprised Watari by selecting only a banana and a cup of coffee. And, of course, another glass of water.

"Are you ok, L? You realize there are still sugared cherry scones in the-"

L nodded dismissively. "I'm fine. Just a change of pace."

Watari regarded him skeptically.

L decided to retreat back to the haven of his laptop. "See you at lunch," he mumbled, stealing away with his unorthodox breakfast food.

* * *

10 p.m. found L struggling into clothing that he was not entirely convinced he would be able to stand for the next five minutes, let alone the next several hours. He would be going to the bar again, and as he would most certainly _**not**_ be drinking, he had to employ some other form of comfort-zone-wrecking discomfort.

It was either clothes first, or communicating with people. This seemed the lesser evil by 1,000 miles.

He'd made good progress since the implementation of this experiment.

His mind was so focused on trying to survive all of this, and adjust, that it had stilled the impending feel of total isolation. He was escaping himself, and his mental prison, slowly but surely.

He viewed himself in the mirror, a grimace twisting upon his lips. Granted, his gut was constantly in knots and he may be developing an ulcer from the stress... but for every gain, you can expect a loss or two.

He tucked a pen into the slightly baggy but form-fitting jeans, one he wouldn't mind losing were it _stolen_ by some jerk with a flashy smile, and tugged at the white button-down shirt. The clothes felt odd. The touch of a collar against his neck was exceptionally so, being utterly foreign to him after his comfortable low-neck sweatshirt.

If Watari wondered at his uncharacteristic choice in clothing, he said nothing.

L still didn't tell his mentor where he was going, but thought maybe he should consider remedying that in the future. The older man did worry, despite appearances.

The walk to the bar took approximately twelve minutes. The strip club was another 8.4 minutes past that, but that was extraneous information as that was not his destination tonight. He steeled himself to his entry, swinging the heavy door of the bar open, and weaving around a cluster of people that were clogging the entryway. Luckily, there were at least two tables still available - the majority of people were standing around talking or were dancing. Securing a ginger ale from the bartender, he made his way over to one.

As expected, the clothes were preoccupying him with their deviation from his standard garments.

He took his pen out, ignoring the flicker of annoyance he still felt at losing the small silver one, and began doodling on his coaster. He idly wondered if any of the employees would be aggravated over his glass resting and dripping so brazenly on the wood tabletop, as he misused the square piece of cardboard intended to rest beneath it. His not-favorite pen did not spread its ink as smoothly as its predecessor, as could be expected. _Store-bought crap_, he thought, looking up now and then to people watch as he worked at his scribbles.

He perfected the art of marking the cardboard in the smallest of strokes, making it take a much longer time to fill in.

Tonight, in minuscule script, he had copied down an interesting quote or two by philosophers he related to. Intertwined with the words of Nietzsche was a straying into some advanced quantum mechanics -just to keep himself from getting rusty- and a half-hearted attempt at a human face that looked rather grotesque even to him.

"Excuse me, sir," an employee interrupted him, giving an odd look to his empty glass on the table and the better use to which he was applying his coaster. "Ah... Here. Someone sent this over to you with their compliments." The male server placed the drink on the table, a coaster beneath it.

L was perplexed. Was it a common occurrence to send a drink to someone like this?

A strange thing caught his eye. Two strange things, to be precise. One was that the drink was the same one he had ordered every time he'd had a drink in this establishment, though the bartender tonight was one he hadn't yet seen. The other was a small, perfectly-rendered gothic L on the corner of the coaster in rich black ink. Perplexed, he lifted the tumbler of whiskey and took the white cardboard out from under it. He flipped it over reflexively as he pondered the oddity, and back again.

He paused.

Taking a moment to register what he thought he'd just seen on the back, he flipped it over again. Sure enough, the back had, several nights ago, been the front of the first coaster he had scribbled onto. He looked at the new addition, the tiny L, done with such perfection that it seemed to say, _'See here, _this _is how it is done',_ in what appeared to be the same quality of ink.

He frowned, wondering who was responsible and was putting the tumbler back onto the table, when he noticed it: a distinctive silver sheen.

Surprise flooded through him. Hidden from view initially, was the glint of his previously-stolen pen. He quickly looked around, trying to ascertain the whereabouts of the person behind this. Had the well-dressed brunet returned the pen to an employee, for some reason? But he had waited here so long that night... Had the man also sent the drink, or had that been someone else? It was hard to say, but one thing was for certain - it had not been an employee that had collected his drink that first night as he had originally thought.

He reached for his pen, noting the unmarred sheen that was everywhere but the place the server's fingers had touched. It had been polished prior to its return. Curious.

Wiping it once more on his shirt to remove the prints, he found something even more curious. The pen felt rather light.

Opening it up, he looked inside. The tip of the ball point cartridge was not in evidence. With nimble fingers, he unscrewed the pieces of the body and found exactly what he expected. The barrel was empty.

His mouth twisted in irritation. The brunet was messing with him.

He upended the longer portion of the body, tapping into his palm the rolled slip of paper he had spied inside. While reassembling the pen and putting it into his pocket, he regarded the paper on the table. It was innocuous enough, as much as a thing could be when delivered in what he could only perceive as an inexplicably complicated and circuitous manner.

Picking up the slender, light-weight tube, he unfurled its edges to find a note had been written to him in anally meticulous print. It almost looked as if it must have been typed, it was that unerringly precise. Every letter was identical to the other appearances of itself, perfect. But it _was_ handwritten; he could feel the tactile presence of the letters, pressed there by someone's hand, on the back of the paper.

Finally, he allowed himself the actual message.

It was written in English.

He quirked his brow at that. He happened to be British himself, but did not look distinctly so. More likely, the person who wrote this expected him to know more than one language, for some reason. The note read:

_Thank you for the use of your pen. It is of fine quality. Unfortunately, the cartridge seems to be a difficult thing to replace. _

L sensed a certain smugness and lifting of brows to those words. _'Unfortunately for you,'_ they implied. How infuriating that the person had removed the cartridge merely to be a pest.

_Perhaps if you look to the back, you will find what you are looking for._

L's head whipped up and he looked towards the back of the room. There, lounging against the wall, smoking a cigarette, was the tall brunet with the blinding smile. The man caught his eye, then raised his hand slightly.

L was taken off guard when the man's hand gracefully formed sign language, and he fell to interpreting it instead of advancing upon him.

_You discovered that just as quickly as I expected_, the man signed at him. He followed that with a smile and an email address.

L puzzled about that a moment too long. _What I'm looking for...? _The brunet pushed off the wall and disappeared around the corner. L thought about pursuing, but refrained. He glared at the glass of whiskey he was sure now came from the brunet, a drink he had no intention of accepting, let alone drinking. Giving his email address indicated the man might be willing to return the remainder of his pen after all, but why was he being so eccentric about it? _I feel like I am being tested... _

Was the well-dressed man gathering information on him? Testing his intelligence? But why?

And he apparently wanted L to know it, for why else would he return the coaster with L's scribblings? And at the same time as the pen, so L would be sure to make a connection... The brunet was also announcing that he had, for some reason, decided to acquire the item from L's table in the first place.

L shook his head and stood up from the table, shoving his hands into the too-tight pockets of his new jeans as he left the bar earlier than planned.

He was being toyed with, and he did not appreciate it one bit. He scowled as he stepped outside and turned in the direction of home.

"Can I call you 'L'?" a polished voice asked smoothly as a set of footsteps fell into pace with his own.

He didn't need to look up. He knew, aside from the obvious reference to his scribble-ridden coaster, that it belonged to the brunet. Perhaps it was the coloring of self-satisfaction and pridefulness that colored the words. "No," he replied shortly. Any curiosity he had about this individual was being crushed by the fact that a total stranger had pulled one over on him. He suffered a slight bout of egotism now and then, and this person was stomping all over it with his shiny, expensive looking shoes.

("Then can I call you Lawliet?") the brunet asked in English, a smile evident in his voice.

L's intent was to ignore the man until he went away but that smug voice set him off. (("You think you're pretty clever, don't you?")) L said in rapid French. (("Am I supposed to be impressed that you stole my pen and were able to read my name engraved on the side?"))

The brunet's rich brown eyes lit up with amusement. ("Your French is beautiful,") he said enigmatically, staying with English.

For a moment, L felt triumphant, surely if the brunet had understood what he'd just said, he would have had more of a response to offer.

(("However,")) the young man said in fluid French, (("it is a bit rustic, don't you think?"))

(- "Bite me," -) L said in harsh German, turning on his heel.

(- "How hard?" -) the brunet asked innocently, matching that language as well.

L retreated to Japanese as he walked -as he was _followed_- and resisted the urge to wring the cocky bastard's throat. "What is your purpose in engaging me this way?"

"I find you intriguing," the brunet said pleasantly, switching to Japanese. "The reason I am following you is because I am quite certain that you would not contact me through the method I provided, due to some misplaced sense of irritation."

"Justified irritation," L contradicted him in a surly tone.

"You still would not have contacted me," the well-dressed man pressed, a smile quirking his lips.

"You think you know me that well, without ever having spoken to me before?"

"Well enough. You left the drink untouched, just as I predicted."

L stopped, fixing the man with a frown. "What is your name?"

"Ah, Lawliet, showing interest at last?" the other man smirked.

"No, I simply find it tiresome to curse someone in my head repeatedly, with only the use of adjectives to make it personal."

"Hmm? And what words do you use to describe me?" He brushed at his silky bangs as they fell over his amused, long-lashed eyes.

"Pompous, conceited, ill-mannered," L responded easily.

"Oh?" the brunet said with a smile. "But I've been nothing but cordial to you, Lawliet. And as you pointed out, you would hardly know enough about me to claim the other two."

L fumed. "It's written all over your face! You're painfully arrogant."

"About as arrogant as yourself, I'd wager, seeing as your temper manifested only _after_ you felt bested."

"You're insufferable," L muttered in frustration. Alas, but he was also incredibly intrigued.

"If I might ask..." the brunet said carefully, reaching out to pluck at the corner of L's shirt collar. "What are you hoping to accomplish?"

L stiffened and just stared at the other man as his personal space was invaded. For no reason that he could name, he cataloged the color of the other's eyes as being more of a ruddy amber. "What're you--"

"You may call me Raito."

L paused as if chided. "Raito," he rolled the name on his tongue experimentally. He wondered if it were really the Japanese pronunciation of the English word 'light'. "Please remove your hand from my shirt. I like to maintain the generally accepted three foot rule when it comes to personal space."

"Of course," Raito murmured, "But first, answer my question."

L frowned. "What am I hoping to accomplish?"

"Yes," the brunet replied, fingertips running over the shirt, just over L's collarbone. "There is something new about you every time I see you." L found he was holding his breath. "Tonight, it's this shirt... the first night, it was the strange way you sat that you suddenly changed."

L felt mildly unnerved and and a little exhilarated. "Are you trying to tell me that you are a stalker?"

Raito's hand brushed down his chest (accidentally?) as he pulled back with a laugh. "You're being serious...?" More of that smooth laughter. "I would like to say that I am merely observant."

"That's mere semantics."

"As you say," Raito seemed inclined to concede the point out of good-will rather than by any sort of agreement. He slanted a glance at L before saying, "Actually, I must be going... I have business to attend to." He paused, awaiting L's reaction.

L shrugged. "Fine by me. I have work to attend to, myself."

L started walking, not giving the brunet a second look, though he sort of wanted to. If he did, the other man would somehow _win_. The rotten pen-thief's conceit did not deserve, nor did it need that kind of boost.

"By the way, Lawliet," Raito called after him, "the email address was a fake."

_What?! Of all the asinine- _L made a face and turned in the same motion, and was irked beyond belief when all he got was a view of the brunet's retreating back and a jaunty wave. _Damn it._

_

* * *

_TBC

**A/N:** It is quite fun to write ridiculously intelligent characters, because of all the _things_ they can do! Several languages?? Why not? :D

I hope this story provides you with some entertainment. **Review**, and let me know what you think!


	3. The Collector

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 3

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

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**A/N:** As this is AU, I wanted to stress something. I am taking the boys out of the Death Note environment in a few ways, but one has to do with **L**. He does refer to himself as "The Great Detective L" but he is merely being a bit self-deprecating. He is not the uber!detective of the world in this fic, although he is very good at what he does, so someone knowing his name is not the fubar it would be otherwise. Anonymity is preferred, but not crucial.

Also, there will be no death notes, Shinigami, homicidal!Light, or L becoming the supreme ruler of the world.

I know this deeply disappoints some of you. It saddens me as well. Perhaps in my next endeavor, evil!L, criminal mastermind, will be pitted against Light!man, the magnificent defender of truth and justice. L can sit in his big chair and pet a random, obnoxious cat and speak to everyone with an eeeevil distorted voice, like Dr. Claw from Inspector Gadget. Light could have either a kewl floppy hat or spandex for his super crimestopping power outfit. (Note: Hat would not be his only article of clothing - he would be arrested for streaking.)

Btw, that fic would be heinous and is completely fabricated and will never happen. Unless I get exposed to lung-seizing, mind-numbing paint fumes. Please, no.

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

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Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

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Part 3: (The Collector)

Raito's "business" consisted of nothing more than a stop back by the bar to pick up Lawliet's discarded coasters.

It wouldn't do to lose the first installment of those curious little peeks into the dark-haired man's mind; he was a completionist, after all. And there was the new one from tonight he had yet to peruse. Raito smiled and thanked the employee that had reserved them for him, tossing them a tip for their troubles.

He'd rather wanted to keep the pen as well, but had refrained on the grounds that the man himself would be much more intriguing than such artifacts, and the pen provided the perfect opportunity to ensnare his acquaintance.

Once in the welcoming quiet of his home, Raito flicked on a light and flopped down onto his leather couch and took a pull off of the slim white cigarette that rested between his elegant fingers. He regretted the intermittent habit, but if it wasn't one thing, it was another, when it came to things that would kill you.

Raito turned the new coaster over in his hands, eager to study the scrawls that covered its otherwise plain surface.

He'd told Lawliet that he was correct when the black-haired man had surmised there was insufficient information for Raito to predict his behaviors or state of mind. It sounded right, but it was just not so. There was a wealth of information on these bland pieces of cardboard. He held the latest up over his head at arm's length as he studied it and took another delicate drag off of the cancer stick. He really was quitting. He disliked the smell of smoke on his clothes. This was the first cigarette he'd had in over a month. (Second, he amended, as he recalled the one he'd lit while waiting for Lawliet to take note of him in the back of the bar.)

Yes, the coasters gave him quite a lot of insight. And for what they lacked, he'd made up for with observation.

It was kind of funny that it was Misa that pulled his attention to the messy-haired enigma. Who knew the chore of helping her make her current boyfriend jealous would have been anything but a pain? She'd practically twisted his arm to do it, but in the end, he'd agreed. He'd sensed her ulterior motive with asking him _specifically_ to help her out... but it was in his best interest to assist her so that she would stay with her current man. He didn't want to afford her long-harbored feelings for him the opportunity to rear their ugly head.

They'd dated briefly, but he just couldn't hold interest in her.

He breathed out a stream of smoke.

It appeared that girls were of minimal consequence to him. Sure, they could be attractive, but something within the way their minds worked was at odds with his sensibilities. However, he could claim as much regarding most people.

Most...

He smiled. _But you, dear Lawliet, __**you**__ have certainly captured my attention._

_I wonder where you went the other night...? _He had fully expected the man with the sublime face to be at the bar the next night. He had taken special joy in the other's tenacity - waiting until closing for the pen that was lent out so grudgingly the previous evening. Raito would have thought the man would be looking for him, ready to demand his property back.

As he'd surmised and tonight's conversation had been proof of, black-haired man was incredibly fun to watch getting worked up.

The look on his face when Raito had displayed his affinity for language had been priceless. And behind that, underneath the awkward and prickly exterior, he saw it - a grudging spark of interest.

Raito brushed his thumb across his lips.

Lawliet was an odd creature, to be sure, but there was something compelling about him. Something that promised a delectable mind underneath that thick exterior, were you to split it open. He was sure of it the moment those dark eyes fixed on him and he heard that inflectionless voice. His interest had peaked, curious at the resentment fixed on him in those brief moments and the wall that had slammed down between them the second he had asked for the pen.

The pen. He hadn't had any need of one, he'd only wanted to get a closer look.

On a whim, he'd grabbed the coaster off of that table, wondering what the man had been writing before the loss of his pen. It was easy enough to avoid Lawliet's eyes until closing time, though the crowds of people had thinned to dregs by then. He knew the owners, so he merely stayed in the back room. (He also knew the code for the alarm on the back door, which had proved useful on more than one occasion.)

After the first one, he was hooked. He spotted the dark-haired man on subsequent visits and waited to see if he would leave more behind, which he had. Raito had flawlessly acquired each one, delighting in his growing collection. It was obvious that the man, that Lawliet, was incredibly intelligent by the things that tumbled their way onto the coasters while he drank.

Tonight, he had discovered even more about his quarry.

While versed in high level mathematics and physics, Lawliet also seemed to enjoy philosophy and was able to communicate in a variety of languages: English, Sign Language, French, and German. It was possible that there may have been more, but the dark-haired man seemed reluctant to discover just how many other languages encompassed Raito's repertoire.

Raito smirked and put the coaster down, adding it to the pile of its brethren, riding a self-satisfied feeling of triumph. _That's one more point to my name, Lawliet,_ he thought lazily as he followed a swirling trail of smoke with his eyes. _I can see how badly you hate to lose...but you'll have to step it up if you wish to come out on top._

* * *

L had been thinking about it all day. The self-possessed young man who embodied that which he hoped to one day achieve... grace, confidence and a self-assured manner... he seemed to offer the greatest challenge to L's goal. Something about him made L certain that further contact would stymie his progress, and should be avoided.

Not to be outdone, L mimicked the sort of clothing the brunet had worn - what passed for stylish - and stubbornly avoided how distasteful he found the flashy clothing. He kept to dark colors, his only concession to himself. If he focused on his other self-prescribed task of this evening, the clothes hardly seemed to matter.

Tonight, he would attempt conversation.

He was not looking forward to it. In fact, he would be quite happy to disregard the entire thing and stay at home in his sloppy, comfortable clothing, doing what he did best. Perhaps he would do some detective work as well; cake did not encompass his world, after all.

_A stagnant mind is a dying mind,_ he reminded himself.

He had to pursue this, no matter the tedium of it. He put on his coat jacket. While he admired the profusion of pockets, he otherwise found it an unnecessary article of clothing. Much time spent in it, and he was sure he would overheat. Perhaps that is why the stylish felt so unconcerned about fitting in... They were too busy feeling uncomfortable in their clothes to worry about other people. It seemed horribly vain and yet it also spoke of an admirable, if not ill-purposed, tenacity.

Shopping for clothing had been an excruciating process. They'd all looked at him as if he'd come into their store with a hairy third arm protruding from his back. They'd already started apologizing for not being able to help him before he'd gotten five feet inside the door. In his annoyance, he flashed a roll of cash at them and then it was: '_Oh, how can we help you, Sir?'_

He much preferred the anonymity of purchasing online, but he accepted that this area was not within his expertise and that he needed a professional opinion. He tossed some money at the nearest salesman who, in his opinion, seemed to dress along the lines of what he was looking for, and spent the next hour being waited on hand and foot, being measured, and being shuffled in and out of clothes until he was quite sure he couldn't endure any more without yielding to some rather homicidal thoughts.

The salesman's chirping voice led L to believe he was unaware of how caustically piercing his tone could be, nor the effect it was having on L for the duration. But perhaps it was willful ignorance. The man was getting a commission, after all.

L looked in the mirror. He hardly recognized himself. He frowned.

_Clothes make the man_, eh? And what is it that inspires what is beneath?

...Or is the majority of the world so shallow, that it doesn't matter? As long as it is wrapped in pretty foil, it's assumed the contents are something desirable?

L rolled his shoulders, getting used to the movement of cloth on cloth over his skin while banishing his musings on the state of humanity. If he continued to let himself think negatively, be it applicable or not, he was going to have problems trying to relate to these people. Logically, they were not all the same, no matter how it might appear. He had to allow for the smaller percent instead of dismissing it in these broad generalizations.

It annoyed him to do so - it seemed a waste of time - but staying hidden and dwelling in seclusion was not good for one's mental health. And in order to free himself while he still had the chance, he had to put himself out there. Even if he encountered failures, the process of it all would keep his mind from entrapping him.

L made his way down the stairs, freezing when he heard the lighter tone of a female voice.

It came from the kitchen. He could hear Watari as well.

_I wonder if I can slip out without them noticing..._

He moved carefully down the steps, not wishing to have an impromptu introduction with Watari's lady friend. He had things to do, after all and he did not need to be delayed.

The steps creaked, but he had almost gained the door, when he heard the female voice call out in delighted surprise, "Lawliet?"

L's hand had actually been about to grasp the doorknob, about to gain his freedom. He'd wanted to avoid this longer, being certain he would make a bad impression. Thus foiled, he turned, trying to find an acceptably social smile in his sack of previously cast-off facial expressions. It felt dusty. She didn't seem to mind. In fact, she bustled over to him and gripped him in a rib-cracking hug, before making a fuss over what a snazzy dresser he was.

L looked over her head at Watari. It was a helpless sort of look. The older man shrugged at him, unable to assist. He was on his own.

But, this was practice too, was it not?

"L-kun! I can call you that, right?" she gushed, deciding she preferred the nickname. This was fine with L. The nickname was what practically everyone used anyhow, and felt much less personal. "Watari made it sound like you never left the house!" The British woman looped her arm through his. "And yet here you are going out on a date, am I right?"

"Ah..."

She giggled. "Don't be shy, dear. I knew from the moment I saw you that you must have met someone."

_Well, no, _L thought, _the only person I've met, I am quite sure I do not like. He's quite conceited and insufferable, you see._ It was easy to carry the conversation in his head, but in the end he merely nodded, confirming her false supposition.

She squeezed his arm in delight, and gazed up at him. "You're such a handsome young man." She pinched his cheek affectionately. "Just look at those giant dark eyes and that luminous skin! What's she like? I'm sure she's gorgeous."

At a loss for what to say, particularly in the face of what he assumed were compliments and the warm stream of chatter, he found he did not want to disappoint the kind British woman who was trying to make him feel welcome. "Ah... she is a brunette. With beautiful eyes," he offered haltingly, wondering why in god's name he was he was describing the pen-thief and not some imaginary girl like a SANE person would. He was also disgruntled by the knowledge that he did, apparently, find Raito's eyes to be very pleasing to look at.

"Oh?" she cooed indulgently. "What else? By the way, you can call me Celia."

"Thank you, Celia" he said politely. "But I'm afraid I do not know her very well yet."

"Come now, you must know something if she's got you all flustered like that."

_Flustered? I am __**not **__flustered._ "She knows several languages?"

"How cute! Your face is turning pink, dear. Have you kissed her yet?"

An image rose unbidden to L's mind. Raito's hand on his collar, his perfect face drifting closer, the heat of his hand on L's chest.... L recalled the way he had stopped breathing. If Raito had been female, or if L himself had been, was that the sort of moment in which a kiss would happen? Raito's lips _had_ looked soft and inviting...

But why would he even think of such a useless thing regarding that arrogant, smirking pain-in-his-ass? It was ludicrous. He'd much rather _kick_ that pretty face than engage in something so base with him. "No, I have not," he said stiffly.

"Mmmhm, Watari did tell me you were shy. Don't worry though - these things have a way of happening all on their own... You'll be standing there, gazing into each other's eyes, you'll drift closer, and next thing you know, you'll be kissing like you were born to it!"

Her brash words and starry-eyed scenario painted a rather vivid scene before L's eyes, nearly a replay of what _had_ happened, and it caused a tightening in his gut. He found he could picture quite clearly exactly how it might feel to press his lips to the young man's... to part those soft lips with his tongue... to halt the flow of impetuous words with the heat of a lingering kiss...

"We just met," L protested, as much against himself as to her. _What am I thinking?! _His mind felt sullied. Irrevocably dirty. If he did encounter Raito again, he would definitely strike him in the face before doing anything else he'd thought of... For stealing his pen. Yes.

She tsked at him. "Well, I don't want to keep you. You must be so excited to be seeing her again! I can't wait to hear how this turns out!"

Before he could say much of anything in his defense, she was pushing him out the door with a smile.

On the stoop, feeling thoroughly harried, L decided that he was quite amenable to the thought of a drink to calm his nerves despite wanting to swear the stuff off after that rough night he'd had. He stood there, erasing the suggestion she'd planted in his mind that he would want to be kissing anyone, or had romantic predilections of any sort.

_Women... were they always this...insistent?_

L tugged at the collar of his jacket, and set off through the misty drizzle that hadn't yet decided if it would ever become rain. The concrete sidewalk splished with every step, crunching also as the soles of his unfamiliar shoes ground against tiny loose pebbles. It was a nice night. Illumination from the street lamps reflected off of the suspended and threading not-rain like flickering droplets caught on lines of spider's web. The air felt clean, if not somewhat humid, as if the pollutants in the city air were being dragged down from the sky to be buried into the earth. People were a rare sight. They were probably tucked in at home, nice and dry, or waiting out the drizzle in any of the convenient establishments along the roadway.

He didn't mind the weather. It had often been like this in England, so it merely reminded him of his previous home. He'd liked it there for the most part and wouldn't mind going back but, for now, his business was in Japan. Before this, he had stayed in Germany for several months. It was not strictly necessary to change locations for his work, but living in different locales and immersing oneself in the culture and language could yield unforeseen benefits down the line, be it a piece of trivia or a perception that assisted in his deductive work. Plus, he enjoyed traveling, as did Watari.

Japan, however.... Japan was quite possibly the most removed from what he knew. Customs, and patterns of thought were far removed from the European standard. Every day offered him something new or different to be cataloged and filed away for later use or reflection.

Perhaps this atmosphere was what reminded him so forcibly of the stagnant nature of his mind.

Cases changed, information was fluid, suspects and witnesses formed a steady stream that was constantly evolving, and in the middle of it all, he was the same. He was secluded.

For years, no, for most of his life, he'd been content with the limits of influence, the minimal contact he kept with a select few and his whole-hearted dedication to his profession, believing it to be symptomatic of being good at what he did, of being successful. Somewhere, he could not recall how or when, that belief had begun to experience a ripple.

That ripple grew, and fanned out, irrevocably drawing his attention and forcing him to see things in a different light. All of a sudden, he felt a great void between himself, those he worked with from time to time, and even the cases themselves. It was all too distant. He was too analytical, too sterile, having experienced but a fraction of all that he _knew_. And somewhere along the way, he had begun to wonder if the state he existed in was anything like what others would consider _living_. He suspected not.

He also suspected that if he waited much longer to stretch his boundaries, he would find those boundaries to be inflexible walls, sealing him in with his regret.

Discomfort, embarrassment, fear, happiness, pleasure - these and more were part of living. They were sharp stabs of color in his otherwise drab world. Happiness was an elusive feeling he'd experienced when indulging his sweets fetish. Pleasure, when he advanced a case exponentially, or even solved it with a flash of inspiration. Discomfort and embarrassment were fast becoming his bedfellows, as he continued his nightly forays. Fear, he had no use for.

He made his way to the bar he'd been haunting for the past week.

Once inside, he automatically scanned the faces for one in particular. He was uncertain, as he sat down, whether it was relief or disappointment he felt when he saw _that_ person was not in attendance.

No matter.

He took out his shiny silver pen and began his ritual of covering the papery surface of his coaster in ink while his drink sat sweating upon the table. A waitress shot him a dirty look five minutes into it, but said nothing. Perhaps if they gave him two coasters, this would not have been a problem. He mentally shrugged. There was always next time, and by now they likely wouldn't question him when he did make the odd request.

L took a sip of his cocktail, something that someone else had been having up at the bar. He felt rather done with whiskey, and since he'd decided that he would be stepping further out of his zone this evening with an attempt at conversation, he figured a sweeter drink could be allowed. The bartender called it a Mai Tai, when asked. L mostly got it because of the juicy wedge of orange and the stemmed maraschino cherries that garnished it. He pulled one of the cherries off of the thin wooden skewer, and popped it in his mouth, savoring the saccharine rush of flavor.

Today, he was less serious, in a way. His scribblings were mostly comprised of patterns and laughable attempts at drawing. He worked on tying the cherry stem in a knot, something he could do typically only when the stars properly aligned themselves, while he tried to make the representation of his drink glass not look like an epileptic elephant.

He glanced blandly at the bar. Patrons were thronged around it, two people deep. None of them looked particularly stimulating.

That queerly anxious feeling briefly racketed through his chest at the thought of engaging one of them. It was one thing to think dismissively upon them, but quite another to _be_ dismissed.

He turned back to his coaster, abandoning the drawing of his glass for one of an eye. In his mind, it was a dark, ruddy amber. The black and white did nothing to capture this however, and he felt somewhat irritated over the fact.

_This is pathetic._

He looked once more to the crowd, scrutinizing them with a will. He would find the most likely person to accept his overtures amiably. Perhaps it would not be a bad idea to look for someone who was already drunk. Maybe then, if it went poorly, they wouldn't remember the encounter.

His eyes scanned them. A woman would be easier to approach due to the fact that most people frequenting such an establishment would be looking to enter into a relationship, typically someone of the opposite gender.

He did not feel like he was any sort of prize, but didn't think himself too awful-looking to be considered.

Right then. Perhaps the blonde on the left?

"Is this seat taken?"

L whipped his head towards the sotto voice.

Raito.

A tremor coasted through him at the unexpected intrusion and the sudden exposure to deep, amber eyes. It was due to irritation at being bothered, surely, he told himself unconvincingly. The other's smile tugged at things in his lower belly. He ignored it.

"Yes, it is," L answered gruffly, turning from the brunet to resume his evaluation of the people at the bar. The last thing he needed was this sort of distraction.

Raito paid him no mind, and was soon lounging gracefully in the seat opposite him, watching him with scarcely hidden amusement.

L endured it for the whole of ten minutes until even he could not withstand the pressure.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing." Raito smiled engagingly. "I was merely in the area, and you looked like you could use some company."

"I need nothing of the sort."

"Oh?" Raito managed to look mildly surprised, though L knew he was not. "Were you not considering approaching someone up there for the last several minutes?" Raito brought the tip of an unlit cigarette to his mouth. L followed the motion, watching sensual lips take the tip of it between them, languidly.

L's _second_ thought was that he did not wish to experience second-hand smoke. The first thought did not bear mentioning and was wrapped up in his inability to look away and the way Raito's lips quirked up into a curling smile.

"I've been rude, Lawliet..." Raito said, the smile spreading into a covert leer, his voice smooth and velveteen. L watched as lips released the slender white object to form words, feeling oddly unable to focus his eyes elsewhere. Raito's face was all he could see. It was almost as if it were pulling him in and entrapping him. "I have yet to wish you good evening."

That voice had power, and the effect slipped through L unerringly, making him uncomfortable.

"There is no need," L said dismissively. "I did not request, nor do I desire your presence. We are strangers, and I would prefer to keep it that way."

Raito leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His expression had not changed. If anything, there was an extra sparkle of light in his eyes. "And what _do_ you desire, Lawliet?"

Raito's voice crawled down L's throat, past the constriction in it, to settle in his belly like a warm, live thing.

The brunet was patiently awaiting his answer, something in his demeanor indicating a smug satisfaction that was not evidenced in his expression or anywhere else that was obvious.

L found he had no answer he could possibly give, so he shook his head. It was a small triumph when he was able to root his eyes back to the bar.

"I think I've figured out part of what you are playing at," the brunet said amiably, settling back in his chair.

"Is that so?" L damned his eyes for sliding back to the young man. "And what, exactly, do you believe you have discovered?"

Raito practically preened under the return of his gaze.

"You are trying to bolster the fortitude to speak with someone. You're unnerved. People intimidate you."

L glared at him.

"Scared," Raito mouthed evilly. He lit up his cigarette then, as if to use the small act of inconsiderateness to annoy L to the best advantage.

"I am _not_ scared," L hissed.

"Prove it," the brunet said with a cavalier lifting of his brows. "The blonde over there has been looking your way."

_I am scared,_ L thought, contradicting his own bravado. The sinking feeling returned like quicksilver, flowing through his blood with sudden force. Ice, which turned his hands cool, sloshed willfully in his stomach.

But it wasn't a normal variety of fear. It was resigned, deeply rooted aversion. His mind insisted that continuing his experiment would end in such badness that even _he_ had not yet perceived the shape of it. Solitude was safety. He was risking his equilibrium with this mad behavior he insisted upon, and for what? Did he truly believe that engaging others was the key to escaping the prison he was disappearing within? Weren't these walls constructed for self-preservation?

Suddenly, his mind felt like the safe place to be, and this limb he had crawled out upon was the danger he should be avoiding.

He found himself looking back at Raito blankly, all of these things running through his thoughts like the flickering digits of his computer's diagnostic scans. Fast. Too elusive. Pertinent.

Raito was encouraging him in his insane plan, was pushing him, throwing him off by shoving him into things before he felt ready. Why? To what purpose?

Raito's handsome face was composed, nonchalant, but there was a sharpness lurking within him. That mind was not idle. The veneer of innocent interaction saturated but did not obscure it.

L recognized all of this, but could not dismiss the challenge. Something in him fought against backing down.... of losing to this person. The prickling of irritation, the way he felt tilted off balance, the strong compulsion he felt to stay and dissect the intriguing and infuriating mystery that the brunet presented. It lay hot on his tongue and his chest pounded with it.

Raito's eyes slipped shut as he pulled in a breath of smoke from his still-burning cigarette. Like watching slow-motion, the movements were unhurried, precise and infinitely drawn out.

It was entrancing.

L tried to focus on the challenge, on setting his mind upon the task of speaking with someone at the bar, or the blonde at least, but the endeavor seemed elusive and hard to grasp. Long lashes shadowed jeweled eyes that reflected every shift of colored light in their surroundings. They were like dark honey, rich and perilously sticky - easy to become lost and enmeshed in.

"Do you smoke, Lawliet?"

Those eyes were too distracting. He opened his mouth to answer, but Raito spoke before he could.

"Would you like to try?"

There was that quirk to the brunet's lips - that deceptive smile - and then an elegant hand held the filtered end of the portable vehicle of death out to him for his consideration.

Slim fingers curved away from him, the cigarette's usable end facing towards him as Raito's elbow rested upon the table. The position allowed him to look oh so comfortable as he waited to see what L would do.

If L were to acquiesce, his lips would brush the backs of those smooth, tan fingers. Warmth and trepidation trickled through him at the thought. To take into his mouth the very thing that had rested between the other's lips... it would be an indirect contact, but one that made him think of what direct contact would be like. He would breathe in the heavy, nicotine-laced smoke, feeling the warm skin of fingers pressed to his lips, all the while, dwelling upon the hotter sensation that Raito's lips would have provided.

Once, twice, the temptation and the imagining of it spiked through him.

"I don't smoke," L told him, for lack of anything better coming to mind. It was said unnecessarily - Raito had obviously gathered as much.

"Are you certain you wouldn't like it?" the brunet asked, eyes burning into him, seeming to address his earlier thoughts and not his useless words.

Raito's hand drifted closer, almost enough to place the proffered cigarette to L's lips. The knuckles of his fingers caressed L's cheek encouragingly. Honeyed eyes swallowed him as they drifted down to brush his lower lip. "How do you know, if you aren't willing to try it?"

His sultry voice belied the limits of the statement, leading L to believe that yes, the brunet was talking about a great deal more than smoking.

L moved away from the touch, brushing Raito's hand aside before his resolve crumbled completely. The suggestive turn their interaction had taken was making him feel unsettled and at the other's mercy. He had to discourage it. "It lowers my already flagging opinion of you, that you would poison yourself with such things," he said disparagingly, referring to the cigarette. He injected as much disdain into his tone as he could muster.

Raito released him from the cloying cage of his intense eyes.

"Hmn," the brunet said contemplatively, lounging back in his chair again, casually creating distance between them. "Not a mark of intelligence, to be willfully destructive... But alcohol and solitude are poisons in their own right, and ones to which you have subscribed." Disapproval moved like hidden razors as he spoke in a pleasant, off-handed sort of way. "I hardly think it fair of you to judge me upon a single vice."

Raito partook of the cigarette in practiced motions, pointedly showing that he would not alter his behavior no matter what anyone's opinion of him was.

"I rarely drink," L said in his own defense, wondering why he felt the need to justify himself. He could not tell for sure but it seemed to him that Raito might indeed care what his opinion was, though his actions spoke loudly to the contrary. Either that or the brunet truly did not care what L thought of him. In the wake of the dissonance that caused in him, he felt himself withdraw, uncertain of how to react.

"Yes, well, I was going to quit," Raito responded in kind while pondering his diminishing cigarette.

"I see you are doing well in that regard," L commented derisively.

Something about the brunet's body language changed and he gave the impression of becoming closed off. L found himself regretting his flippant remark, but at the same time, he felt smug that he had discovered a chink in that unflappable, suave exterior.

"_Touché_," Raito murmured with a fake smile.

He took another drag off of the cigarette, a clipped version of his previous grace, and killed it in the waiting ashtray before its life was due. "Enough about me and my habits. What of yours? I do believe you came here for a purpose and opportunity is waning. Fear is the thief of success, after all, and hesitancy is the killer of time."

L settled back into his own chair, folding his arms across his chest. The added barrier made him feel more secure as things shifted once more. "I find I dislike your assumptions about me."

"In proportion to their accuracy, I'm sure." There was a stiffness in Raito's swift reply, and a sharpness that L did not care for.

"Think what you will," L returned. "Not that such a behavior was ever in doubt."

Raito took L's tone with what appeared to be an intellectual grain of salt. He rested his chin on his hand and surveyed L with an air of listlessness, as if he were bored but somehow still engaged. It was too fast a change from the flash of ire to be wholly real. "You make a practice of speaking your mind."

It wasn't a question, not really.

L watched Raito watching him and said, "Oftentimes."

"Your instant aversion to me became a source of intrigue... Just what is it that caused that reaction?"

L remained silent. He wasn't sure himself, only aversion was not the correct description. Something about the young man simply made him react. Irritation was frequently breaking the surface, but when it wasn't... he was sinking beneath the pull he felt towards those eyes and the mind that shone through them.

"If I were to fawn over you as you seem to have expected, would that alleviate your troubled mind and send you on your way?"

Raito ignored that in favor of continuing where he left off. "And, if you find me that distasteful, it hardly seems right that you would prefer to suffer my presence when such a bounty of minds await you a mere few feet away. _Look at them_, Lawliet. Look at how _splendid_ they are," Raito was waxing poetic and sarcastic in the same breath. "And yet you balk from them, _and_ your goal, and continue in my acquaintance. Don't you think that paints a different picture than the one you are leading yourself to believe?"

L stood, his annoyance peaking. "The devil I know is preferable to the devil I don't know? How trite, Raito."

"You like being in control, and avoid situations that cannot offer you that assurance." The words were delivered quickly, the intensity in them unplaceable, as was the flashing in those amber eyes. It could have been irritation, an epiphany, or even spite that colored them. The brunet gave the impression that he wanted to rise to his feet as well, to match L, but he did not move to do so. "You fear it, them, and it is a lie to say otherwise."

"Don't presume you know me," L bit out. Just a little more. Just a little more and he would be well and truly angry. He could use that anger... it could give him what he needed to pry himself away from this table...

Raito stood slowly, his hand skating over L's where it lay clenched upon the table as he leaned in close to speak in L's ear.

L shuddered to stillness as silky hair brushed his cheekbone. He detected the faint trace of an elusive, expensive cologne mingled with another, natural, more heady scent.

"I know you," Raito's rich voice breathed into his ear.

The closeness and the warm heat of the brunet's body joined with the liquid intensity of those three, sure little words. It was damning how profound the effect upon him was, and L couldn't deny the electric jolt that speared through his body as lips briefly graced the delicate flesh of his earlobe.

"Don't disappoint me, Lawliet," Raito warned softly in the same tone he might use to entice someone into his bed.

"Don't force your expectations upon me," L said in an equally quiet but harsh tone, willing his voice not to betray the tumultuous state his emotions were in. He did not want to admit how compelling he found the brunet to be, and refused to buckle under his manipulations or rash assessments. He absolutely was not holding his breath, nor was he wishing for that mouth to continue its treacherous ministrations. He did not want to be kissed and he did not enjoy the brunet's company, contrary to what the other man might believe.

So, L realized, he was being hypocritical in denying the truth. So what? It was all he had, and the only thing allowing him to keep something embarrassing from happening. If Raito were to crook his finger and beckon to him in that sultry tone, would he not follow the brunet home and allow this game to continue? At this rate, such an atrocious scenario was not as unlikely as it should be.

It was appalling.

L knew next to nothing about the other man, except that he was a distraction from L's purpose in making these trips into the belly of society, and that he was someone L could not afford to become further involved with. L could not guess at Raito's true intentions and that made him someone L could not take lightly.

It was still too early to be paranoid that the brunet had approached him, somehow guessing at his profession and possibly even his identity. It was no secret and certainly he was not the most sought after detective in the world, due to his proclivity for only taking cases that piqued his interest, but he preferred anonymity. It just made things easier.

"What are you thinking about so intently?" Raito asked, startling L as he realized the other man had pulled back enough to face him.

"Work, actually." And where should he rest his eyes? Meeting the ones before him was not a good choice, but neither were the perfect lips that beckoned his gaze in their stead. Looking away entirely seemed a better option, though it could be taken as a sign that he was intimidated. "I shouldn't have stayed here as long as I have."

"Your work requires you to keep strange hours? Not many professions operate in such a manner..."

"You assume I mean to return to work now? It is equally likely that I have an early start tomorrow."

Raito smiled humorlessly. "And it is equally likely that neither is the case." L's eyes trailed upward to warily meet muted amber. "Regardless," he continued, "you do not look the sort to indulge in a decent night's sleep."

The tingling heat of Raito's hand left his and skirted faintly across the delicate skin beneath one eye, tracing the dark smudge that framed it as the property of an insomniac.

"You're observant," L said. "But perhaps I was merely trying to _politely_ extricate myself from your acquaintance. I had quite different plans before you intruded."

This garnered an amused look from the brunet, and even a small laugh as he pulled away. "As you will, _mon petit hérisson_."

L bristled at the address, then cursed inwardly, knowing that that behavior was _exactly_ why Raito had chosen such an animal. _My little hedgehog? Asinine._ "I don't need this," he muttered. Being likened to a small, spiny, disgruntled creature with large dark eyes and a solitary nature did not set him in the best of moods. "If I can sit here talking to _you_, I'm sure it'll be much easier with someone else."

"Be my guest," Raito said, settling back into his chair with the air of someone who had just won a brilliant hand of cards. He tapped a cigarette forward from the soft pack and put it to his lips. "You may find, though, that I am an excellent conversationalist." He lit the cigarette and took a long, relaxed pull from it as his eyes flicked back to L.

Annoyed, L swiped Raito's lighter from the table before pushing into the crowd that swarmed thickly between the tables and the bar. It was a small victory if he had impeded Raito in continuing the leisurely enjoyment of his vice, but the thought of inconveniencing him, if only a little, was a pleasing one.

* * *

TBC

**A/N 2:** Part 4 is half written, and picks up right where this leaves off. I'll get it up as soon as humanly possible - time, unfortunately is at a premium. Damn these classes. (Too bad writing boy-pr0n is not considered a job skill ;P)

Hope you enjoyed the update! :]


	4. With Quiet Words I'll Lead You In

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 4

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N:**I think that a few of the questions I was asked may be answered in this chapter. Also, Raito's background will be delved into... I have had that little tidbit planned from the beginning. ;D

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

_

* * *

_

Part 4: (With Quiet Words I'll Lead You In)

Inevitably, the blonde posed the path of least resistance. L had been determined to choose anyone but the person Raito had suggested earlier, but assuaged himself with the fact that he had chosen her _first_ as a likely candidate _before_ the brunet had offered his unwanted opinion.

Irritation fueled him as far as the location of the bar, but the task he'd set before himself seemed too perilous to undertake even at its inception. Awkwardly standing behind a row of people that either hunched over their drinks or chattered amiably with one another, he felt lost. There was no opening. His presence was not needed, desired, or even detected. Unless he counted the bartender who was watching him for signs of wanting a drink.

Dammit, he hadn't been ready for this yet.

He had the urge to shoot a glare at the brunet who'd instigated all of this, but did not want to give him the satisfaction. Worse still, he dreaded the possibility that the table would be empty. As long as he believed he'd not been abandoned, he could do this. He could grit his teeth and impose, and put forth an effort instead of heading for the door.

_Don't look at the table. _

_Either way, you knew you were going to do this._

Surprise nearly floored him as someone took hold of his hand and pushed a drink into it. The steady, pulsing hum of the night club atmosphere had beaten softly into his brain until he almost didn't notice it, and was puzzled by the muting effect it had on speech. The music was louder here at the bar. "Excuse me?" he said.

The young, blonde woman smiled at him and pulled him a bit closer by the hand she'd not yet released. "I said,_'My name's Vic. I've seen you around a few times.'_"

He responded with a very insubstantial hello.

"I'm a model," she told him conversationally, not yet put off by his reticence. "What do you do?"

_Was that a typical thing to ask?_ L supposed so, but did not want to disclose anything to this stranger. "Odd jobs," he replied vaguely. "I move around a lot."

"Really?" her voice pitched up slightly in what L took to be... excitement? "Me, too! Moving locations can get to be a drag, though..." her voice turned down again. "It gets lonely sometimes."

While grateful to the woman for providing him a chance to engage in the next step of his experiment, L did not find himself to be particularly keen on following the cues she was throwing out. She seemed to want sympathy or comfort of some kind, but how was he supposed to muster such things for someone he did not know?

Fake it?

L nodded in what he hoped was an empathetic fashion. "That is understandable. Human beings naturally need social interaction to remain mentally healthy."

She blinked at him a moment, as if confused or taken aback, but in the end let out a twittering little laugh. "You're funny." The laugh seemed at odds with the rest of her behavior but laughing was a good sign, wasn't it? "So what's your name, handsome?"

"L," he said.

"Just L? That's weird, isn't it?"

L kept his face blank, but it was an effort. Something about her manner felt insulting, despite the compliment a moment before.

"Oh, heehee, I'm sorry," she said with a giggle, her hand moving to cover her mouth. "That was a silly thing to say."

L thought '_rude'_ was more appropriate, but refrained from saying so. Instead, he made himself smile and said, "My name is difficult for most people to get right, so it is actually more of a nickname."

Briefly, he thought on how Raito had not had that common problem.

"How mysterious," she said solicitously, her hand creeping to his arm again. "Were you not born in Japan? Is it a hard name because it is foreign?"

"Ah- yes."

He wasn't quite comfortable for the touchy-feely aspect that accompanied this conversation. Was it standard operation for people to invade your personal space like this? He didn't think so, but he did not have enough experience in these things to know for sure.

"Does the mysterious L not like the drink I bought for him?" she asked coyly, batting her eyelashes and pulling him the rest of the way to her stool. She very nearly pouted.

"I haven't tried it..." Surely that was obvious? He had his hands full with trying to communicate; he'd quite forgotten the drink melting in his hand. He took a sip, having to turn to the side to do so, as there was no room between them to do otherwise. It was dark, strong, and somewhat unpleasant tasting. Not as unpleasant as the arms now curling around his waist, but surely as strong as his aversion to the touch.

"Ah... Vic?" he did not want to embarrass her, but he couldn't endure this sort of thing.

She blinked up at him, releasing him for the moment before he could mention anything further. "Oh, do you not like your drink? Is it not the sort of thing people like where you're from? Where was that again?"

"No, no, it's fine." He took a long sip to demonstrate, and to avoid her persistence on the question of his nationality.

He choked on the drink as she lifted up the corner of his shirt and peeked underneath. "Do you work out?" she asked unabashedly.

Heat washed over his face as it flushed in mortification and anger. "I do _not_, and I don't appreciate-"

She beamed at him. "You're so cute." She jumped up off of her stool with a little flounce and kissed him on the cheek. "Here's my number," she said, tucking something into the pocket of his pants, and with that she was gone.

L stood rooted to the spot for quite a long time, trying to determine just how he should react to the whirlwind of social trauma (a.k.a. interaction) he had just borne witness to in all its confounding glory. The feeling of being mildly violated was foremost, yet the triumph of not scaring his experiment's subject off garnered a wary victory.

* * *

As soon as L left the table, Raito reached for the newest coaster and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He didn't quite dare to linger over it now, as the dark-haired man might glance back at any moment and see him with it. There would be plenty of time for that later.

He took a drag off of his cigarette, mulling over the fact that he had actually been well on his way to quitting before Lawliet had turned up. He was certain the other man was at least a little bit older than he was, although the messy ink-black hair, large dark eyes and fragilely pale skin made him seem as if he were possibly even younger.

Raito breathed in shakily, recalling the softness of that skin, and the way Lawliet's entire body had frozen so still as he drew close.

He was so striking... so inviting in his reactions. Giving the impression that he was helpless to do anything but exist in that moment, and respond to whatever Raito wanted of him.

It was a heady sensation, and not even their bickering afterwards had fully dispelled it. In reality, it seemed more of a cover for held breaths and trailing eyes.

He hadn't meant to take things so far, to push and insinuate to the extent that he had, but caution paled when each look and word from the other man was so thrilling. Lawliet challenged him and willfully kept him at bay, but his eyes and other small details were giving him away. He was wearing down and he was lying to himself only to keep up the fight.

Raito had flirted with the idea of disregarding caution altogether, of trying to entice the messy-haired intellectual into leaving with him and engaging him on his home turf, but such dalliances might lose him the bigger prize. Unless he was planning to detain Lawliet under lock and key (a tempting thought, though an unreasonable one), giving in to such behavior this soon and without more information would push his elusive quarry further out of reach.

He watched L navigate the crowd, flounder in quiet indecision as he gained the bar, and finally engage the blonde in conversation of some sort.

If he was patient, he would soon have more information at his disposal.

He ground the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray, and pulled another from the pack. He held the slim white stick in his mouth as he patted his pockets for his lighter, letting out a noise of irritation a moment later as he remembered Lawliet had so spitefully stolen it.

* * *

L was torn between leaving and staying after his strange dealing with the blonde woman. On one hand, it had been somewhat nerve-wracking. On the other, he couldn't help but feel a small modicum of success that the interaction had gone well enough that continued contact was desired. Yes, he was quite torn between escaping all further social endeavors for the remainder of the evening, or returning to the table with the hopes that he could rub his victory in the brunet's face. That is, if he was even still waiting there.

One thing L was not in doubt over, however, was whether he would be consuming any more of the drink in his hand.

He set the glass down on the lacquered wood bar with a muted thunk, and no small amount of disgust, and spent the next 10 minutes attempting to squeeze his way through the insistent press of bodies. Perhaps it would be wise if the establishment considered installing another bar and bartender so as to dim the craze of alcohol-seeking patrons. Navigating the room was significantly more difficult this time around, largely due to the increased throng, but also due to the alcohol that was suddenly making him feel light-headed as its effects settled over him, cloying and unwanted.

When he finally reached it, the table was empty.

Disappointment and relief fizzled through him and he stared blankly at the empty chairs, wondering what he had expected. He made up his mind to leave then, but ended up sitting down despite this.

L was surprised that the brunet had taken his leave without his lighter... but perhaps he had left in search of another one. Or was it that impersonal an item, that he did not care overmuch for its return?

L dug the lighter out of his pocket, catching the little piece of paper with the blonde's number on it unintentionally. He set the scrap aside, and leaned back in his chair to scrutinize the lighter.

It was actually rather nice. It was a little wider than a disposable lighter, was possessed of recessed rivets at the top and was a dark, matte gunmetal grey with a style reminiscent of its owner. L ran his fingers over the smooth, cool surface, liking the stepped planes of the lighter's design which made it appear to have two long lines running the length of it. The mechanism for creating the flame was a hinged piece at the top that lifted up on one end and simultaneously ignited the flint as you pressed down on the other side. The action was flawless and well-oiled, preforming with minimal pressure.

L turned it in his hand again, thinking that such a device would almost make one consider picking up smoking, if only to have the pleasure of using such an item.

It was odd that he had not taken notice of the lighter when Raito had made use of it previously. Typically, he noticed details to a ridiculous extent, and surely this was the sort of thing that would incite his interest well enough to mark.

Engraved on the slim side, near the base, was the Kanji for 'moon'. The delicate, laser-carved grooves shone in muted silver, matching the rivets and the movable piece at the top. He ran his thumb over the character, feeling for burs or roughness to the metal, but there were none. It was smooth and professionally done. Quality.

Habit brought L's other thumb to his mouth and he bit lightly at the tip without realizing. Raito would not abandon something like this unless money were not an object, indicating that he was in possession of a substantial amount of currency. On the other hand, the Kanji on the side suggested that this was a personal item. Conversely, it might also have been a gift, and one to which the brunet held no particular affection. He guessed that the Kanji 'moon' was perhaps the way 'Raito' was written, but there was no solid evidence to attest to that and no family name either. That was curious as well. If it were engraved by Raito's order, why would he have omitted his family name? Or, if it had been a gift, the same.

Who would have bought such a well-suited present for the brunet, if such was the nature of the item? Did Raito have people surrounding him that knew him so well, and would not be adverse to such lavish offerings?

He bit his thumb a little harder.

He had been operating under the guise that Raito truly aggravated him which, in some ways, he did, but... suddenly faced with the possibility that the brunet's interest in him would fade, and that he might rejoin instead those people that already surrounded him...

L flicked the lighter on in irritation, taking his thumb from his mouth as he realized he'd slid back into old ways, telling himself how stupid it was to fixate upon a stranger. Why did he suddenly imagine that Raito was the sort of person to be flocked by admirers? Was there evidence of that from what he'd seen? No. It was merely his own speculation based on how charismatic the brunet was.

_Flick. Flick._ He was wearing down flint and wasting fuel.

There was no reason to be concerned with Raito.

None at all.

_Flick._

It's just that it was irritating that the brunet probably _did_ have that social veneer so well-made and perfect that dealing with people was hardly given a second thought. Whereas for L, it was like pulling teeth (only without the blissful promise of one day running out, enabling an end to the torment).

Raito had obviously pinpointed his deficiency, but had he approached with that in mind? Was the brunet toying with him and laughing inwardly at his expense?

* * *

Raito was annoyed. He had found out even less than he had anticipated, even considering the general ineptitude of someone who was not himself, as well as the elusive nature of his quarry.

He snapped his phone shut and re-entered the bar from the back rooms.

Effortlessly, he spotted wild black hair that was on the verge of looking tangled, and curved shoulders that hinted at sloppy posture. Hal had been useless, but he supposed that was to be expected. A smile curved across his face as he watched Lawliet study the lighter he'd stolen, the look intensifying with a quirk of his eyebrows as the dark-haired man's lips parted to allow him to bite at the tip of his thumb in distraction.

He had not liked the forwardness the blonde had taken with Lawliet earlier, even if it was an opportunity to see how disposed the insomniac seemed to be towards women as the object of romantic interest. From across the room, all he could tell is that her hands had been getting overly familiar; he could not determine the mood with which this was received.

"Ah, I see you've retained my lighter," Raito said from behind L as he approached, feeling quite pleased with himself as the other man jumped reflexively and scowled at him. Raito took the opportunity to lean over his shoulder, forcing L to turn away to accommodate the close proximity. He smelled faintly of soap, and the curve of his pale throat, glimpsed between the jags of his soft black hair, was enticing. Raito felt his lids lower as he drifted closer, almost tasting the heat of skin against his lips. "Have you uncovered anything of interest?"

It was satisfying, the way Lawliet's throat worked as he shuddered slightly, and the involuntary closing of his eyes. Satisfying but frustrating... his hands ached to clamp down upon the other's shoulders, to hold that thin frame still as he bent to the luscious curve of that neck, to do things that were sure to elicit more interesting things than rejoinders from those stoic lips.

"Nothing that is worth mentioning," L murmured with a trace of obstinance. "Where were you?"

"Bathroom," Raito lied dismissively, not really wishing to be convincing. "Missing me already, Lawliet?" he teased, amused at the immediate negative reaction that caused.

"Hardly," the other man replied, shifting away.

Raito took the opportunity to rest a hand upon a warm shoulder as he reached over to pluck a scrap of paper off of the table. Muscles shifted beneath his fingertips as L moved to keep the paper from him. "Now, now," he said lazily, seizing the pretense of restraint to squeeze his hand upon flesh and bone, which afforded the perfect resistance; it made him wonder the rest of Lawliet would feel under his curious hands. "What's this?"

The little scrap said:

Vic (with a little heart to dot the 'i')

and listed a phone number

"I seem to be more amiable than you surmised," L said loftily, snatching the paper back and shoving it in his pocket.

* * *

L felt somewhat smug regarding the evidence of his success but, at the same time felt strangely discomfited regarding Raito's reception of the scribbled number.

The brunet moved away, reclaiming the seat across from him and put a cigarette to his lips. He seemed displeased, and it did not appear to coincide with the lack of his lighter. "Well, congrats," he said grudgingly. "Didn't know you had it in you."

Raito made a vague, inquisitive gesture at the lighter, which L realized he had clenched in his hand. He held it out to the brunet. Instead of taking it from him, Raito's hands cupped over his, and worked L's hand upon the lighter to create the flame as he leaned in to light the end of the cigarette.

It was another of those questionably innocent gestures that had L's stomach fluttering heavily, and his hand threatening to manifest a tremor. Jeweled, sultry eyes regarded him speculatively, and a slight smirk was lurking around the corner of his mouth. "Now," Raito intoned, in that way that made the fluttering in L's stomach even worse, "what are you going to do with it?"

"Excuse me?" It wouldn't do to be this distracted. _Eyes. My god, avoid those eyes._

The smirk came to life as Raito elaborated, "The girl gave you her number; I'm sure she expects you to call, maybe to set up a date or perhaps merely a _rendezvous_."

L blinked as Raito's meaning finally got through to him, past the distraction the other embodied, coloring him somewhat embarrassed at the casual reference to intimacy. He hadn't considered what came after. He was uncomfortable with the thought. Of course, a conversation or date was a logical follow up to such an encounter... but a date would lead to expectations... perhaps even those of a physical nature. He didn't want to continue on that path and had no desire to progress the experiment past stand-alone conversations - he'd just wanted to prove he was able to interact, and in this sort of atmosphere.

There was a sharpness to Raito's taunting, knowing smile. It seemed to be something of a challenge - as if Raito were calling him naive and labeling him as incapable of handling more than fleeting bar talk.

"I'll call her," L said defensively.

A perfect brow raised in an arc of sardonic humor.

"I will," he protested, trying to convince himself as well. "Of course I will."

* * *

Lawliet was rather fetching when imbibing in what Raito estimated to be a newly acquired vice. Drinking did not particularly suit him, in that it seemed an ill-fitting past-time, but it was infinitely entertaining to be privy to the inner workings of that mind which the alcohol's affect afforded.

His quarry likely thought he was well hidden and guarded, but Raito could see well enough through the small gaps the other was as yet unaware of. Raito would not be enlightening him to that little fact. Instead, he would mull over the best way to use that knowledge to his advantage and work his way closer to the prickly eccentric. Cliché though it was, he rather fancied the thought of luring Lawliet to his place, getting the other man quite drunk, and possibly progressing things to the level where talking was strictly optional.

It was quite humorous, really, that such a thing was foremost in his mind. Typically, it was the last thing he would choose to deal with - having so many strings attached and all. But Lawliet.... Lawliet seemed to require strings to tie him down and keep him from slipping out of reach. And if that were the case, Raito would happily wind those strings so tight about him that he'd have no hope of escape. Then he would be able to sample that mind at his leisure...

His mind, and every part of him.

Yes, it was quite unlike him to fixate on such a thing. He toyed with the thought of indulging himself with Lawliet's alcohol-touched lips, to see how hard a fight his companion might offer him, or how much convincing would be required to rid him of it. He didn't mind a struggle. He could see the effect he had upon the other man, even between the distancing words and scowls. He merely needed to force his way past that wall the dark-haired intellectual had constructed, and into the private world that existed within it. Raito licked his lips. He looked down at his own fingers as they tapped out a distracting pattern, trying to divert the flow of his thoughts until he was sure he would not act upon them.

He wondered idly if Lawliet would call the number on that paper.

Motion caught his eye, bringing him slowly out of his thoughts. There was a flicker of disappointment as Lawliet broke the atmosphere his presence afforded by announcing his departure and rising from his chair. _I seem to enjoy his company more than I realized._ Raito wasn't prone to letting his mind wander in the company of others, he never felt comfortable doing it - convinced that lack of attention to detail might compromise his standing in some way.

Raito looked up into Lawliet's grave, dark eyes, loving the ghost of awkward discomfort in them as he tried to break off their acquaintance for the evening. "It's been a pleasure," he said, putting almost imperceptible emphasis on the last word.

"I wish I could say the same," Lawliet replied, adorably stiff and predictable. His dark eyes flickered, a portal into that hidden realm that Raito wanted into so badly.

He was just waiting for someone to come along and break him down. Raito smiled at him.

His inward and outward reactions were delightfully at odds, and Raito couldn't help exposing and provoking him. "Did you intend to take my lighter with you as well? I must confess it is my only one, and I may just have to follow you home for its return," he paused, "or extended use."

Lawliet froze for a small moment, the ghost of a startled flush touching his pale cheeks.

Raito found himself getting to his feet, drawn by that damning, telltale reaction, though he knew by now the sort of curt response that would follow on its heels. He wanted to cut it short by tasting that pale neck, and feeling the tremble of the other man's body so close to his, but he musn't give Lawliet anything concrete enough to properly reject. It was a delicate snare he had to weave, one that would tighten only at the last moment, when it was much too late.

Lawliet had regained control of his expression once more, and it was the flat, lifeless one he liked to adopt. "Even if this were your only lighter, it would be simple enough to buy another one at any number of convenience stores in the area."

Raito drifted closer, stopping just shy of making the other man take a hesitant step back. "That wouldn't do," he murmured. "I like _quality_, Lawliet." He implied things with his eyes, that he was speaking not only of possessions but people as well, and smirked faintly as his companion's mask started to slip. "Therefore, I have no choice but to follow you home."

His hand slipped down to brush the hand Lawliet had fisted around the lighter, stroking it with questing fingertips as if seeking his possession when it was simply an excuse to touch, and watch dark eyes blacken as pupils swallowed the irises.

"You said you were trying to stop smoking," L said, turning his gaze to the side, though his focus was certainly still centered on Raito. His lips were parted slightly.

"Would you like to help me quit?" His thumb caressed a line from L's wrist, down into the gentle concavity of his palm. Fingers twitched in his. "Perhaps I'll take up drinking instead..."

Lawliet was in this thrall, and he in turn was enthralled, drawing closer as the dark-haired eccentric reluctantly met his gaze once more. His thumb pressed deeply into the flesh of that clenched hand, likening it to other places and body parts as he repeated the stroking motion. He couldn't check his behavior - not when he had drifted unwittingly closer to parted lips and Lawliet had made no move against him. Dark eyes fluttered shut as their breath crossed paths in soft puffs that tickled lips and whetted appetites.

Raito tasted his mouth gently; the lingering of the alcohol did nothing to disguise the richness of it, and the warm heat was pulling at him, tempting him deeper.

It was the sort of kiss he didn't dare give in to. Once begun in earnest, he would not be able to stop the flow of events that would naturally come forth. Already, his hands ached to grip slender hips and bring them into tight contact with his own, or lose themselves in dark hair so that he could crush that mouth to his. In another setting, perhaps, he might risk it. Just now, though, he fought with himself to break the kiss, and berated himself for allowing it to happen in the first place. Despite the physical signs of acquiescence, Lawliet's contrary nature might just make this mistake a fatal one. He'd given his companion something that he could reject.

"Perhaps not rum," Raito said consideringly as he drew back, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, letting the ambiguity of that statement in this context ambush any conclusions the other man had drawn. He implied that the kiss was enough to make rum a distasteful prospect, disowning the thrumming of his pulse and the thought that rum should only be taken in _this_ way, if it were to be taken at all.

He had gotten carried away. He _never_ got carried away.

Biting the inside of his mouth, Raito viewed Lawliet impassively, as if the kiss were as good as forgotten. Already he could detect a myriad of chain-reactions occurring beneath the surface.

On one hand, Raito was perturbed that he had lost himself for even a moment and wanted to dispel the chance for that to repeat itself. On the other, he begrudged the necessity of pushing Lawliet away like this in order to keep him as close as possible. But was he doing this properly? Had he erased his misstep, or was he only exacerbating it?

* * *

L blinked through the slight haze of the rum, which he could feel dampening his system functions, and the cold-water shock that jumped through his body at the brunet's seemingly careless words.

To be kissed was most certainly a surprise, and something he should not have allowed, but...

...he had.

He had ceded that ground in some sort of temporary insanity, drawn into it as thoughtlessly as a moth courts flame. _Stupid, useless thing to do. _He'd been dazed, swallowed whole by the feel of it, so unsuspecting when lips softly parted from his and Raito's face came into view. He'd wondered if something miraculous hadn't just occurred - if perhaps he should consider that unsolicited contact to be the beginning of something never before contemplated at length. He'd wondered if perhaps Celia had had something right; things like this _can_ just happen. Though Raito was not female... that did add some complexity to the matter... and the overtly public setting was a point of contention...

But when Raito's aristocratic features came into view, the perfect nose, perfect windswept bangs, those beautiful eyes framed by such long lashes, it was all wrong. All wrong. Averted eyes spoke of disinterest, and the words he spoke spoke of mistakes, misjudgements and miscalculations. A flippant tilt to that head... making light of this, or making fun? L couldn't tell. But then why would someone like Raito be taken with the urge to kiss someone like him if not in jest? It was preposterous to think otherwise!

A sinking feeling quite like horror spread through him, and he focused on blanking his expression as thoroughly as possible.

_I knew something like this would happen!_

L jammed his fists into his coat pockets, and slid around the brunet to make a hasty exit. Part of him instructed that a witty comment was due, or a scoffing noise at least, to save face, but he was frozen from action and wanted nothing more than to be out of the now stifling bar with its press of bodies and lurid faces and the stench of fast living.

"Lawliet," Raito's voice called after him, not as smoothly as before.

He chose to ignore it, as he pushed his way to the door. Had the spell been broken? Had there been a spell? What had he been expecting from this??

_God, I'm an idiot._

He gained the door and the fresh rush of moist air from outside. This experiment had gone horribly wrong. Raito never should have even been a factor. Raito never should have been so persistent after L's attempt to dissuade him from interaction. _He never should have insinuated himself into my presence at all, keeping me from what I set out to do!_

_(He never should have kissed me like that.)_

The road home was a short path as brooding devoured the steps mercilessly. His lips still tingled from the press of a warm mouth. His stomach twisted at the thought of how weak he was to let such a trivial thing effect him. The view of the front door quickened L's steps. He wanted out of the world, away from the reach of any living soul. Out of harm's way. How had the brunet gotten within his defenses? Through what crack had he pried his way in, between retorts and glaring eyes? That tilted smile. That surety. How often had Raito sidled close to someone and worked his way into the core of them so skillfully? Was it merely to test if he could? Or did he truly bore that easily?

Never again.

L opened the door, shoving his key back into his pocket restlessly, suddenly irate that he had Raito's lighter still clutched in his other hand.

_'I have no choice but to follow you home.'_

L almost looked behind himself, out into the street to test the words he knew no longer rang true. The game was at an end. It had been there in the empty expression on the brunet's face. _Unaffected._ Such a kiss that had been enough to bend L's mind inside out and it was little better than nothing to the one who had given it.

_Idiot!_

L closed the door and locked it. The entryway was dark, the stairs daunting. The place felt deserted. A gnat's sneeze would not have gone unnoticed in the ensuing silence. Watari and his lady friend were not in residence. The house was empty.

It was just as well, he thought as he trudged up the stairs. Company was something he could do without. Other people caused nothing but complications. Perhaps he'd been right all along... the walls of his mid that had loomed over him like a prison now seemed to offer safety and solace. He opened the door to the room he used. It was quite empty. Barren, if you will, except for a bed, his computer, and a closet full of attire that marked his latest failing.

He ripped off his jacket, pulled off his shirt and sank down onto the edge of the bed, contemplating the still anxious state of his body. The lighter, unfathomably, was in his hand.

_Raito._

_Raito..._

Warm brown eyes almost the color of cherry amber haunted the darkness behind his lids. The touch of a firm hand, curling into his own... the faith-inducing brush of honeyed lips...

His stomach twisted in hard knots, and he put the lighter aside. If only he hadn't seen that impassive face. After all of the teasing, the suggestiveness... to be dismissed after what must have been quite the unsatisfactory kiss....

L fell back onto the bed and lay an arm over his eyes.

Tonight, he'd let his mind wander where it would - to experience a facsimile of what would never come to fruition. Tomorrow, the experiment would continue anew and never again would he set foot in the place that was the brunet's haunt.

His hand drifted uncertainly down his stomach as he lost himself in the memory of rich, brown eyes.

* * *

TBC

**A/N:** In case it wasn't obvious, L just succumbed to self-pr0ning. (!!!)

The title of this chapter is a snatch of lyrics from the song "The Unwinding Cable Car" by Anberlin.

You can expect the next chapter very soon. I'm just fixing up a small thing or two. ^^


	5. Slowly, Suddenly

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 5

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 5: (Slowly, Suddenly)

L spent the next several days fully avoiding his experiment, real food, and people in general.

He'd been lax regarding work, he told himself, and submersed his every waking moment into it. At odd times, he would venture down to the kitchen for nibbles of baked goods, but his enjoyment of the sweets had paled. He was quite torn between feeling like a failure with work and feeling like a failure with his attempts to socialize himself. Work, because he had taken so much time away (even though he'd easily been able to justify the need for a little time off). Socialization, because he had let one instance send him scuttling back to the safety of what was familiar - his prison. Were the stone walls of his mind so bad? Should he try to break free, or put up curtains?

Oh, he hated being indecisive.

And indecision led to the other dilemma - that little scrap of paper with the blonde's phone number that was burning a hole in the pocket of his coat upstairs.

L chewed on a dry scone, slightly worried for himself that he didn't feel the need to slather it with butter and jam or honey, and took a sip of coffee. He was quite content with the sophisticated flavor and texture of the British biscuit, and couldn't fault it for not being obnoxiously sweet. He must be coming down with something. Even his coffee suffered this strange turn of events and was graced with a pittance of five spoonfuls of sugar, instead of his standard of nine.

He glanced around the darkness of the kitchen, taking in the quiet calm that was moonlight glinting off the tiled counter top and stainless steel appliances. It was two in the morning, and most people would be asleep by now. Watari, the neighborhood, and even parts of the city. It lent a peaceful air to the slight chill of the kitchen, a pleasant thought to accompany the scone and the twilight hours that remained until dawn.

L scratched the top of one foot with the other as he ate, balancing as easily as a crane, and stared out the sliding glass door into the house's tiny yard. The blue-white light of the moon cast a pretty sheen upon the grass, lending slight color and shape to the sea of darkness. It was serene.

However, he could not languish forever in the embrace of such a scene, content with the muted hum of the black refrigerator or the sometimes whirring of crickets. He could not hide from the world, only emerging as it slept. He would not accept defeat, or dismiss his venture as meaningless if only to assuage his pride and keep the word _coward_ from entering his mind.

Why was it so difficult to do what others did so easily? Watari handled people quite well, both in work and personal matters. But L had always seen it as a waste of time. Why spend time in idle chit-chat when he could be advancing a case or furthering his research? And idle chit-chat was what people seemed to expect. They did not like how he cut to the chase and spoke strictly of work, suspects, or his latest hypotheses.

What care did he have of whose family member was celebrating a birthday or wedding? Why endure meaningless, structured exchanges of 'how are you' when the responses were preordained, and deviating from that script garnered you odd looks or the even more awkward situation of adhering to the script regardless.

_'Good morning! How are you doing?'_

_'Do you really want to know?'_

_(nervous laughter) 'Of course, why else would I be asking?'_

_'Well, to be honest, I just lost my biggest lead, we've run out of coffee, and Watari is stuck overseas in Hong Kong due to inclement weather.'_

_'That's great!' (smile) 'Well, I have to be going. Have a fantastic day!'_

L rather despised office settings. Even the hotels he worked out of got that feel if enough people were around. Not to say that everyone was a source of discontent. There were a few that made his job easier, and did not restrict him too greatly, but inevitably they wished to converse on a personal level and L never felt up to sharing nor hearing them give a discourse on the state of their affairs.

This was, in part, why he was less successful than he could have been as a detective of his skill. If it weren't for Watari, he wouldn't be getting as many jobs as he currently received. Clients, for some unimaginable reason, liked to put faith in those who were more 'likable' and 'amiable' than those who could best get the job done. He'd lost several jobs in just such a manner that he was later fated to complete (when clients drug their sorry asses to negotiate with Watari for his services - their first choice in detectives being unable to complete the job). Inefficiency at its finest. _Pah._ And still, they chose people like Aiber over and over again, just because he had a winning smile and a way with words. Damned Nazi. If only they knew the inside of Aiber's head as well as _he_ did...

L sat his plate on the counter and drained his coffee.

He and Aiber went way back. He'd always disliked the man, his frivolous manner, his laziness, and his cunning, ill-applied mind. The tall, solidly-built Aryan man was a jewelry thief and a con artist. He played at being a detective, but mainly he seemed to do it for the status it afforded him, and the pockets it allowed him to dig into. He was well-liked and was very clean and erratic with his illegal activities, both of which prevented L from easily incriminating him.

It was hardly worth the bother anyway.

He wasn't being paid to expose Aiber, and if people enjoyed having the man in their employ and being swindled, so be it.

Oh, but he despised the rare times employers had taken him on to work _with_ the blond. It had taken them all of ten seconds to size each other up and know exactly where they stood. And Aiber seemed to take great pleasure in having L work _under_ him, lording it over him every chance he got.

He also had the infuriating habit of claiming L's work as his own, furthering his reputation, and smiling that million dollar smile as if L hadn't been called in to assist because Aiber _couldn't_ get the job done on his own. He'd given up trying to correct the clients... they only dismissed him as being insubordinate and uncooperative, and threatened him with never receiving work from them in the future.

More infuriating than that was the first time such a situation occurred and L nearly attacked them in an uncharacteristic display of well-earned violence. Aiber had diffused the situation, holding him back physically and covering for him. Lack of sleep causing ill temper, indeed. The clients lapped up Aiber's well-played apology and his graceful acknowledgement of L's assistance in resolving the case, along with his wish to work with L in the future.

As soon as Aiber pulled him outside, L kicked him in the face.

The man merely rubbed at his square jaw, amusement coloring his light eyes, and L stormed out.

L put his empty coffee cup down on the counter and trudged out of the kitchen and back to his room.

Now and then, Aiber requested his hire as an assistant detective just to piss him off.

It worked every time.

L closed the door to his room and took his laptop in hand, making himself comfortable on the bed this time, instead of at the simple table he used as a desk. He wasn't sure why the blond man had popped into his head so fully, unless it was his mind's pathetic attempt to keep him from thinking about that slip of paper and the number he didn't want to call. That and the fact that a certain brunet shared some of the same infuriating qualities as Aiber.

But he didn't want to think about Raito.

Raito was something to be cataloged and filed away, not something to muse over any longer.

He didn't need to recall that kiss, nor the quality of those lips on his. He'd resolved to put it all behind him that night. But his misbegotten indulgences gave his brain more fodder to clutter his mind with while he tried to focus on work. His imagination was shameful, and the thought of ever seeing the brunet again after picturing him in such a scandalous fashion...

But he wouldn't.

He was never going back to that bar, and he was never going to see that arrogant, sensual face again.

L worked well into the morning, mulling over the phone number the blonde girl had given him. He had been doing this off and on for the past few days, coming to the conclusion that commencing something with her might be the only way to get Raito out of his head. Raito, who had challenged his ability to even be liked by anyone else, and his ability to follow up on someone's interest. It had been so evident that the brunet saw him as an utterly naive shut-in, that he was amused over it. That must have been why he had pushed L to converse with the girl, and why he had challenged L's likelihood of calling the number she'd provided. He must have wanted more to laugh at.

_Bastard._

_How did I get caught up in his pace in the first place? I tried so hard to keep him out._

_I'll call her. That'll show you. And whatever she expects of me, so be it. It can't be helped that she will want something of me, and that I balk at the idea. Every part of this experiment has been the same. All of it has been about pushing past my comfort zone and re-shaping myself._

It was a sound line of thought. One that, unfortunately, he had been having since the beginning while coming no closer to acting. The task of calling that number was about as formidable as publicly speaking about his personal interests in a room full of people that hated him.

He spent the better part of the day, in the back of his mind, working himself up to calling. He'd done this previously, but this time he worked a little harder at it, convincing himself that it pertained to his experiment and was utterly necessary.

Utterly...

Necessary...

Raito's warm scent kept filtering into his mind, as insistent as something that needed swatted away. He reminded himself that he hadn't given the business of kissing much thought until it had happened, and maybe he was working this up into something bigger than it was. He hadn't given the blonde a chance... if they kissed, maybe he would see that it wasn't so different from Raito's false advance on him, that it wasn't _Raito_ that he was pining for but intimacy itself, plain and simple.

It was four in the afternoon. Was it too early to call? Was Vic even still in town, or had her modeling job moved on by now?

That uncomfortable feeling swirled acidly in his stomach. Four was too early, he decided. He would try later. At six, perhaps.

Almost immediately, he felt much better and dove whole-heartedly into his work, content that he was absolved for the next two hours at least.

* * *

L fidgeted.

It was eight minutes past six and counting, and the phone was staring him in the face, patiently awaiting the break in this deadlock L had with himself.

Nine minutes past. L was growing frustrated with himself, and the frustration was making his anxiety worse.

What was the worst that could happen? She wouldn't remember him? She would laugh at him and say it was all a joke? She would be mad that he took so long to call and slam the phone down after venting her temper?

_Come on, L, at least in those cases it will be done and you can move on and not have this hanging over your head._ He should have just done this sooner, but whatever ego he had to speak of had felt rather flat and not up to the challenge his experiment would subject him to.

He blanked his mind and dialed the numbers from memory, having stored them after many aborted attempts. It was easy to push them if he thought of nothing but entering the sequence. The ringing of the tone in his ear set him on edge though, ruining the illusion. He wasn't fond of phones. He preferred the anonymity of speaking through a laptop screen with a voice scrambler attached.

The phone kept ringing, and he had to force himself not to chew at his thumbnail.

Finally, the line clicked on the other end. A male voice made an indistinguishable sound that L took to mean 'what do you want?'

_Her manager? A lover? _

"Good evening," L said somewhat stiffly. "Is Vic there?"

"Who?"

_A wrong number?_

"Ah... Vic," he prompted awkwardly, "a young blonde woman who is a model? We met a few nights ago."

The voice resolved itself into something less monosyllabic, and took on an air of familiarity. "Hmn, I'm afraid not," it said with aloof dismissiveness. "Though had she been, I'm sure several days of waiting would have cooled her off." A note of playful mockery lurked within the statement, embedded within the rich tones of that voice.

L froze, the phone clutched tightly to his ear. Only one voice had ever been able to wind its way into him, curling in his stomach and flicking it into butterflies like the one he was hearing now. "Raito??"

_What did this mean?_

"Well, at least you had _some_ courage to buck up, even if it did take a whole 3 days."

Raito's voice was teasing, slipping into an even lower range that reminded L of the sound of it breathed against his ear. The image shivered through him and clutched powerfully in his lower belly.

L was angry. Angry at his reaction, and angry at Raito's return to the game that had been abandoned and buried, or should have been. Also, he was angry at the prospect of being mocked for his apparent lack of fortitude, sore spot that it had been over the last few days. "Well, maybe I was trying not to look too eager," he snapped.

Raito let out a purring laugh. "No, my dear Lawliet, you were merely showing you were _not_ too eager. Trust me, I know how these things work."

L practically growled, "Oh, _**do**_ you?"

_Why was Raito the one answering the phone anyway? Did he know the blonde and suggest her for that purpose? Were they involved? Was this truly her number or was it somehow Raito's?_

"Let me impart you with a piece of wisdom that aptly applies to the pursuit of this sort of endeavor, as well as to life in general," Raito said, pausing for effect.

L waited for something profound, an adage or proverb, perhaps?

"The early bird catches the worm. Tweet, tweet."

"Don't you quote John Ray at me, you--!" but Raito was gone, the line was dead, and the gnawing ache in his belly was as bad as it ever had been, despite his frustrated irritation.

* * *

Around seven thirty, L's cell phone lit up and blinked off. He favored it with a skeptical eye, not sure it was worth the effort to retrieve it from head of the bed where it had crash-landed less than two hours ago.

After a moment of deliberation, deciding that curiosity would eat at him too insistently as to not interfere with his work, he stood up from his makeshift desk and shuffled over to it.

He regarded it like it was a piece of roadkill - one that just might not be entirely dead yet and that might be feeling rationally hostile.

He picked it up between his thumb and forefinger and was mildly surprised that what he'd received was a text message from the number Vic had given him, which let him know that the number was indeed a cell phone, and likely Raito's own. It read:

_Guissupo's. 9pm._

Following that was the kanji for moon which was the written form of Raito's name.

L ground his teeth together at the pompousness of the curt message, and the fluttering that stirred in his stomach at the thought of seeing the brunet again.

He was absolutely _not_ going.

He needn't be faced with this unfortunate attraction, or endure the rising hopes that the brunet wasn't just playing with him. What would be the point? Unless it was to return the lighter, which Raito hadn't asked for, which he wouldn't. That would be a courtesy the other man did not deserve. _Quality, my ass._ He'd love to see the snobbish brunet struggle to look sexy lighting his infernal cigarettes with a book of matches.

Waiting until 8pm, he sent a text message back.

_I have to work._

He flipped his phone shut and tossed it back on the bed. _There. He already surmised I work at night. I have the perfect reason to decline._He nearly jumped as the phone's screen flashed a few moments later.

_9pm._

L bit his lip as he read the brief re-iteration, his heart starting to race a little and his hands feeling slightly clammy. Raito demanded his presence. He seemed to think he had that right, or that L would not refuse him. And what would he do if L did? What recourse did he possibly have? Would he be stubborn and pursue this further? Was he seeking his lighter, and expected L to produce it, even if he did not bother to mention it?

L wondered if he should just ignore the message.

He smiled a little to think of Raito's indignation when he neither responded nor showed up as ordered to. Would the brunet occupy a table on his own, lounging in his chair as if it were a throne, trying to look content as he chain-smoked and eventually realized he'd been stood up?

It was a laughable image. _Just desserts_, to the arrogance of him. But, L found he could envision Raito's face all too clearly, and the look in those eyes was hard to face. Why would he imagine patience there, or even a veiled restlessness? Raito in that predicament was not pitiable. L should not feel obligated to appear. At all.

But the image made him anxious nonetheless.

L's hands felt cold and clumsy as he texted back again. It was twenty after eight.

_I'm not coming. I'm working._

Defying Raito's sense of entitlement felt like he was doing something illegal or dangerous. His hands shook a little as he typed the words, nervous adrenaline racketing through him as he held the phone and waited for a reply.

Many minutes passed, and there was no response. Raito seemed to have given up, and the notion was oddly disappointing. It didn't matter, he told himself. Regardless of whatever the brunet could possibly say, he would not be meeting up with Raito anywhere. He sat heavily in his wooden desk chair. He frowned at the darkened display of the phone's LCD and noted that it was twenty to nine. If he left within the next five minutes, he would meet Raito's deadline.

_But I'm not going to. I'm working, and there is nothing you can say that..._

L's inner thoughts broke off as the phone flashed in his hands. Heart thudding in his throat, he pressed the buttons that would allow him to read the latest message.

_9pm, detective._

L surged to his feet, nearly upending his chair. _How did he know?_ He cast about for a moment before grabbing the not-so-annoying jacket with all of the pockets, his keys, crammed some sneakers onto his bare feet and thudded down the steps to the front door. In hindsight, he might have preferred some socks, a different wardrobe or, at the least, his wallet.

* * *

Upon further reflection, a raincoat or an umbrella would have been an essential accessory as well.

L arrived at Guissupo's at one minute after nine with shoes that squelched with water as he walked, and hair that felt wind-blown and equally wet. The staff stopped him in the lobby, taking in his appearance with obvious distaste, and barred him from moving into the dining area. L chafed at the treatment, and the delay that was making him later and later with every passing moment. They were unimpressed by his claim that he was meeting someone and that it was very important.

They tsked at him in disbelief and L fought the urge to stereotype the French based on one vexing restaurant experience.

"And what was the name of your supposed guest?" a snooty member of the wait staff eventually asked him disdain when he continued to not be chased off.

L glared sourly back. "Yagami Raito," he said with mounting frustration.

The man's eyes widened slightly and he excused himself to confer with his compatriots. After some hastily exchanged, hushed words, the man returned, looking considerably more affable and offered him a towel with which to dry himself before proceeding.

_That's odd..._

L declined, thinking that he would prefer to drip all over their stupid fancy chairs than accept such a belated token of apology.

The man paled slightly and tried to insist, but L's glare brooked no argument.

"This way then, _monsieur_." The man led him into the dining area with all of the dignity he could muster with a wet rat trailing and slouching behind him. L made the journey as excruciating for the man as possible, but disliked being such a center of attention. He could see the thoughts in the client's eyes as a bedraggled, dark-haired insomniac plodded after the refined garçon dressed in baggy jeans, a baggy white sweater, and a stylish coat.

_Squelch. Squelch. Squelch._

Polite society dined on filet mignon, caviar, and crème brûlée, and watched his miniature circus cross the room with barely hidden laughs, distaste, or horrified amazement. Jewelry glinted in the romantic half-light and chandeliers sparkled expensively. Pressed white linens sat beside the pristine white porcelain plates, matching the flawlessly draped tablecloths and the _Rococo_-style ambiance of the room. The patrons were likewise perfectly aristocratic, well-dressed and matched to the decor.

Raito was no exception, L noted as they arrived at the table, though the brunet's expression was one of slight surprise and nothing more as he took in L's appearance and his eyes lingered on the pool of water gathering beneath L's feet.

The garçon bent to Raito's ear and apologized profusely, inquiring at the same time if this was indeed the guest he had been expecting.

L dripped miserably on the floor, the air conditioning starting to make him shiver, as the brunet made a display of surveying him with a critical eye. "Not entirely," Raito said loftily, "but I suppose he'll do."

L felt his hackles rise at that and the small smirk that twitched at the corner of Raito's lips.

The french waiter pulled L's chair out for him and indicated that he should sit, though L could see that the man's eye was twitching at the thought of the soon-to-be-ruined silk of the seat.

"Is there anything you require, _monsieur_?" the man asked in a fawning manner, as if desperate to get back into the brunet's good graces.

Raito thought for a moment, an indulgent smile spreading easily across his face. "Yes, a bottle of Chablis, if you will."

The man perked up. "Right away, _monsieur_."

He turned to his task, but Raito called him back almost instantly. "Just one other thing," the brunet said off-handedly, waving him close, that pleasant expression still gracing his face. His voice was pitched low, but L could still make it out. "I wouldn't recommend you treat a guest of mine in such a manner again if you value your job... _Comprenez-vous_?"

The garçon gave a haggard smile. "_Oui, monsieur. Je suis désolé._"

Raito waved him off with a curt hand and turned to L. "I imagine you weren't actually that late. Only a minute or two after the hour?"

"More or less," L said begrudgingly. "It seems you had that perfectly timed." He was referring to the final text message. Raito must have somehow guessed that the flaunting of such knowledge, L's natural curiosity, and his dislike of being late would conspire to have him rushing to make this meeting before he had time to reconsider. But how had Raito known how long it would take him to make the trip?

"Of course." The brunet smiled at him, infuriatingly self-satisfied and gorgeous. "A minutia that is likely eating at you quite thoroughly."

"One that you will surely be elaborating upon?" he challenged.

"In time," Raito acquiesced, brushing the matter aside and focusing on him with singular interest. "For now, might I comment on the... _unusual_ choice of your attire for this evening?"

The prince was amused at his expense. Just great. As if he weren't feeling insecure enough, and ill-at-ease in this room filled with old money, Raito was going to make sure he dwelt upon it in excruciating detail.

"I'd rather you didn't." In the moment, he hadn't thought about what he'd been wearing. Now he was sorely regretting that oversight, feeling at a disadvantage while he faced off with the impeccably-dressed brunet. "Water doesn't agree with me," he added in a surly tone, just daring Raito to comment further.

The gleam in those ruddy amber eyes indicated that he _would_, and with great pleasure, but L was temporarily granted a reprieve as the wine arrived.

Raito accepted it graciously, allowing the garçon to uncork the bottle and pour a single glass before dismissing him. He picked up the cut crystal wine glass and contemplated the pale yellow liquid. "Would you like a glass?" Raito asked.

L shook his head. He didn't need wine, he needed explanations and then he needed a warm change of clothes. He shivered.

"Are you sure?" Raito held the drink out to him, meeting his eyes over the proffered glass. "It would help to warm you up."

Raito's demeanor and his voice were regaining that teasing surety and suggestiveness that L found to be so maddening and compelling. His eyes promised other ways of warming him up. "No, thank you," he said faintly, dropping his eyes.

"I insist." The muted sound of a glass being set on the tablecloth before him made L look up. Raito gave him a brief glance that said he refused to be argued with, then set about pouring the second glass for himself.

L hated being told what to do. He considered leaving, and letting the brunet stew in frustration at having been disobeyed. Raito was going to string him along insufferably if he stayed, he was sure of it.

"Don't cause a scene, Lawliet," Raito said simply as he set down the wine bottle, as if guessing L's intentions.

L's hands fisted upon his knees under the table. _So arrogant!_ As if the brunet were orchestrating pawns and had every little thing within his control, _**and**_ could predict behavior on a near psychic level. He would not subscribe to this sort of thing!

"It's still raining outside, Lawliet," Raito informed him, using the opportunity to roll his name upon his tongue like he was savoring it. It had the usual effect, settling in his gut with insidious intent, and distracting him from his plan to storm his way out. "And," the brunet reminded him, "you have questions that you want answered."

L's eyes unwittingly followed Raito's crystal glass as it tipped to the brunet's lips. _Damn him._

"Could we keep this short? I'm cold."

"Drink your wine."

L scowled and took a sip. He wasn't exactly enamored of the taste, but Raito was right in that it would warm him up. He closed his eyes and drained the glass, hoping his lack of class would hurry to tip the brunet's hand. He put the glass down with slight triumph and was galled to see Raito had the wine bottle at the ready to refill it in almost the same instant.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" L asked suspiciously, hoping to goad the brunet into some sort of reaction.

"Are you suggesting that I should?" the young man returned smoothly, arching an elegant brow. "Would that make you more amiable?"

L was so shocked at the unexpected reply and innuendo that his cheeks flushed hot before he could kill the reaction. His only option to cover it was to hide behind sipping his wine, which he did rather hastily.

Light was watching him, his chin propped upon his hand. "I thought to have dinner, but if you would rather, my skill with cooking French cuisine does not pale too terribly when compared to this establishment's repertoire."

It was a miracle that L did not choke right then.

Raito was inviting him over and offering to cook? Perhaps that was all it was an invitation for, but even the thought of being alone with the brunet, even the _possibility_ of something like the kiss happening again made his body flush hot and his stomach somersault in a way that was _not_ conducive to drinking.

A sly smile lazily curved the brunet's lips. "Though, I do suppose if you are so paranoid as to accuse me of getting you drunk... you would likely think my offer is nothing but a veiled attempt to poison you."

L shook his head, the most he could do as his muted coughing fit persisted. Maybe he should get out of here while he still could; his companion's eyes were looking way too playful and focused. He couldn't help that he found the other man to be attractive - but he did not wish to have that exploited and rubbed in his face. He didn't want more of these fake advances that would end in such embarrassingly unfulfilling ways. And they would. Raito was sizing him up and cataloging every response, every reaction he had, watching him with those knowing, scandalous eyes.

L dug in his pockets for his wallet, intent on paying something for his consumed beverage and getting away from the brunet's toxic, gravitating pull.

Coat pockets....

Jean pockets...

L frowned and patted them down again with dawning horror.

_My wallet..._

In his mind's eye, he could see it on the room of his floor where he'd left it. In his great hurry, he had left yet another extremely important item behind.

"Is something wrong?"

L's eyes snapped up to see Raito watching him with unconcerned amusement. "Ah... well..." he didn't want to admit having been looking for his wallet at this stage as it would expose his planned exodus. On the other hand, if he lied about that now, it would come out as soon as the check came. "I seem to have misplaced my wallet."

"How rude, Lawliet. Are you that eager to part from my company?" Raito's voice retained a dismissive playfulness, but a sharp edge crept in on its heels. "Is dinner so abominable that you would wish to leave prematurely after that grand entrance you made, insulting me further?"

L swallowed and bit his lip. So the brunet hadn't been as nonchalant as he'd appeared. It made L painfully aware, once more, of his pauper's clothes while in the company of the kings and queens who presided here and the miserable, cold dampness of the garments as well. His throat constricted as he felt the compounding badness of the situation, and the many ways he had contributed to it and was continuing to make it worse. His head bowed dejectedly. "I'm sorry. I--"

He broke off as Raito stood up and pushed in his chair. "What are you doing?" he whispered in a near panic, noting that Raito had left no means of payment on the table. "Raito!" he hissed in a desperate undertone, catching at his sleeve.

The brunet had that bland look on his face, and it sent anxiety crawling up L's spine. L would have gladly paid the bill, but to be left with no means of doing so...

"What are _you_ doing?" the brunet threw back at him. "We're leaving. Come on."

The panic eased a little. A little. "But--"

Impatience marked Raito's features. "Have you never heard of a tab? I dine here frequently. It's covered. _Come._" The brunet beckoned him like a dog brought to heel and he didn't know what else to do but slink after him. All eyes seemed to follow them across the room. Within the whispers, he caught snatches and pieces of the other man's name.

Just who was he that he had a tab at such a fine restaurant, and that he had enough clout to be able to threaten the staff and garner whispers from a room full of wealthy people that apparently knew his name?

Raito whipped out his cellphone as they approached the door and placed a brief phone call. He then grabbed a large black umbrella that rested in the entryway, and opened it with a practiced motion as he stepped outside.

"Is that yours?" L's teeth chattered the question as a gust of rapidly cooling air whipped against him. The weather certainly hadn't improved.

"No," Raito said easily, then turned to look down on him. "Why are you standing in the rain? Get under here. The cab won't be by for a few minutes at least."

L cautiously sidled under the black canopy, still uncertain of the state of the brunet's mood. "You took a cab?" he asked, testing the waters.

"Of course. I'd hardly make the walk when the forecast called for rain. I suppose you didn't bother to check such a thing before heading out?"

"Ah... no," L said quietly, feeling scolded. Why was Raito so skilled at affecting his moods like this? He'd started this evening being angry, justified, and wary. Now he was reduced to this dismal state of feeling like the world's greatest disappointment or a kicked puppy. He wasn't sure which was worse. And all the while, he was feeling the coldness that filled in when Raito's smiles were absent.

If the brunet was so displeased with him, shouldn't they be parting ways instead of allowing this to drag on? Why would Raito insist on his company?

Miserable. Cold. Why had he even left the house?

He was no closer to discovering anything he'd intended, and for his troubles, there was even more that he wished to know.

L crossed his arms over his chest, hugging himself in order to keep a little warmer, or maybe to reassure himself. Either way, it didn't help much.

The car pulled up after a few more minutes of silence. Raito opened the back door and ushered L in before following suit. "Home," he said to the driver, then closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the seat.

It was one more instance of clout, to add to the growing pile and L couldn't stop himself from asking. It was too irritating not to know. "Just who _are_ you?"

Raito turned to him, head still upon the seat as if he were quite weary, and an amused smile played at his lips. "Is that all you wish to know?"

"There is quite a deal more, but I think that is a fair place to start."

"Hmmm," Raito purred in the back of his throat. "And what is my reward for answering?"

L faltered slightly as that insidiously sensual mood rolled over them, drying his throat and making his heart race uncertainly. "I have nothing you want..."

"Are you certain of that, Lawliet?"

L turned quickly from Raito to face the front of the car, unprepared as always for the affect of his name on those lips. He sank back into the leather seat in silence, not trusting his own voice to manage the simple yes with which he would have replied. He nodded instead and held his breath.

Leather creaked and Raito's husky voice spoke into his ear. "I don't think you are."

He was unable to speak as desire washed heavily over him. Unable to think, he was only able to _want_.

He closed his eyes against the overwhelming force of it, shuddering at the touch of Raito's lips upon the side of his cheek.

"The girl you knew as Vic," Raito murmured, brushing a hand over L's collarbone and igniting the horrible lust even further, "she doesn't exist. Her name is Hal, and I arranged for her to talk to you and give you my number, though she later complained that she would have rather provided her own."

"W-why?" L struggled to get out.

"I was testing you," Raito said, pulling L's mouth to his, and plunging lustfully inside.

L nearly moaned as his mouth was ravished so hungrily, and the brunet's heady scent enveloped him. It was only through fear of being heard by the driver that he crushed the noise in the back of his throat.

His head swam, as he struggled to keep pace with the brunet, trying as well to understand why this was happening.

It was no use, however. All he could think of was Raito's hot mouth against his, and the hand that had found its way under his shirt to burn his chilled skin like a brand.

Fingertips teased at the waistband of his jeans and it was almost more than he could take. He grabbed at that hand, trying to pull it away, nearly sobbing at the pleasure as he was ignored and they brushed against hardened, clothed flesh.

He struggled out of Raito's embrace then, breathing heavily. Which was just as well. Moments later, the car had rolled to a stop and the driver announced their arrival.

Raito uttered a few words to the taxi driver, something about settling payment next time, keeping it succinct, but being unable to completely mask the roughed quality of his voice. Then L was being pulled from the car, into the night-time drizzle. The umbrella, this time, was apparently unimportant because it remained a passenger in the taxi as the vehicle pulled away.

L couldn't have said what the walk up to Raito's house looked like, nor would he have been able to pick out the front door if shown a lineup of images. But he could have said with certainty, the feeling of it pressing against his back as the lock slid home and Raito's body molded to his.

The moans he'd been suppressing escaped as Raito's hips rocked against his, and his coat was dragged halfway off his shoulders, pinning his arms.

His body ached unbearably and his mind turned to thoughts of skin moving against skin, fast making his wet clothing even more unbearable and the craving so strong, he needed to give it voice.

"Ra...ito," he gasped out in a voice he didn't even recognize as his own.

Raito seemed to anticipate his request, because after a moment of renewed, passionate kissing, he found himself being promptly divested of his jacket which hit the floor with a sick, wet plop. The shirt gave more of a struggle, causing the brunet to curse under his breath as the cloth clung insistently to L's arms and stubbornly clutched at his head.

L fought it off and was rewarded, when he surfaced, with the glorious view that was Raito's bare torso. He felt very nude, suddenly, in nothing but his jeans, but the way Raito was looking at him made it hard to be self-conscious and had him thinking of being able touch all that beautiful, tanned skin.

He wasn't in his right mind. If he had been, he might have noticed several things on their way to what he later discovered to be the bedroom. Even if he had noticed then, it probably would not have made a difference with this fire raging under his skin.

He passed the leather couch and the table beside it, which had a pile of small, flat objects living atop it, and entered the hallway, dragged onward by the tight grip of Raito's hand upon his arm.

The lines of Raito's back were beautiful. The broad planes of his shoulders, the curve of muscle that followed the path of his spine and the trim taper of his waist... it was all so unerringly perfect. Just like the darkened amber eyes that glanced back at him from time to time.

It might have been embarrassing, had L caught a glimpse of himself in and mirrors, to see himself in such a state, obediently trailing behind the brunet as if he were love-struck. He might have quailed at the sight of Raito pulling him into his arms and devouring him so thoroughly while sliding his wet jeans off of his body or perhaps he would merely have been biting his thumbnail to the quick as he was walked backwards, mindless with the feel of hands upon his skin, until Raito was pushing him down upon the bed, pressing between his thighs.

Heated kisses consumed him, arching his hips into the ones that moved so tantalizingly against his. It was his own desperate hands that caught upon the top of Raito's pants, as they curved over Raito's firmly sculpted backside, identifying the barrier and attempting the button. It was doomed to failure - his coordination while the brunet rocked against him was worse than pathetic and garnered a breathy laugh from his partner as a noise of pure frustration escaped him.

Raito pulled him up into a sitting position, claiming his mouth as he worked his pants off with one hand. Lips and tongue and hot wet heat slid passion into him until he was nothing but a container for it. He was nothing but desire as a hand trailed up his thigh, teasing him, playing coy to his aching flesh.

He wrapped his arms around Raito, drowning in smooth skin and muscled flesh, wanting. Wanting, craving, but unsure of how to proceed. Maddening hands traced his thighs again, coaxing them wider, spreading them apart until L felt utterly exposed.

It was the slick, hot pressure against his sensitive skin that made sense of it all. It was in the sharp stabs of pleasure as Raito kissed his neck and forced his body to take him in. It was in the way Raito's hands tilted his hips and guided them into a mind-breakingly patient pace to meet his long thrusts. Every inch of flesh caressed his insides with unapologetic pleasure, building him up, building it up - this hurtling, desperate impatience, the need to feel this harder and deeper until both his mind and body were shorted out from it.

L rocked his hips upward, urging the hips meeting his to move with more urgency. Raito faltered in the breath of a stifled moan, his body tensing slightly, before regaining himself with a hastened pace.

Affected. This suave, sensual, collected individual is affected?

It was truly hard to believe.

But the evidence lay in the harsh breaths of his partner, the failing rhythm of their joining as each movement became more crucial, more debilitating, more powerfully felt.

Raito's lips found his neck as L clutched his body even tighter, spilling his name in broken syllables that twisted L up from the inside out. His mind narrowed to those two points of contact - heated lips upon his throat and the movement of Raito inside of him, burning up his nerves, making his belly clench in rolling waves so intense he was sure he would explode.

"Come for me, Lawliet," Raito's raw, husky voice panted in his ear. "Only me."

If L was doomed once by those scandalous words, he was doomed twice by the sound of his name. As if with those three syllables, Raito had licked him up and down and swallowed his burning need whole.

His body seized, arching his back and forcing a sound from his lips that couldn't be suppressed by bitten lips and will alone as release flooded through him savagely, tightening every bit of his body and squeezing mercilessly around Raito deep inside of him.

"God," the brunet uttered, muffled against his neck, his body tensing and shuddering as if it were caught in a gale.

As sensation paled enough for him to breathe, L was dimly aware of Raito collapsing on top of him before he utterly blacked out.

* * *

TBC

**A/N:** Some days I really wonder how I can write stuff like this and post it for others to read. 0_0 (hides)


	6. Domestic

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 6

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N:**I forgot to mention last chapter, but... Vic=Hal. It seems (by some of your reviews) this was not as apparent as I originally thought. Hal was just playing a part as a favor to Raito. He's scheme-y like that.^^

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

_

* * *

_

Part 6: (Domestic)

Raito blinked blearily at his clock and reached an uncoordinated hand out to disable the alarm before it went off in another ten minutes. Ironic that he always woke before its grating chimes sounded, no matter how tired he was, yet if he did not set it, he was guaranteed to oversleep.

Stupid alarm clocks. They were irritating in the most deviously small ways. Give him a clock that could serve him a fresh cup of coffee, everything added, and maybe _then_ he'd reconsider.

Oh wait. He had one of those. He could smell the freshly brewing coffee wafting back from the kitchen.

Well. They could damn well make one that was silent then, so at least he could keep it at his bedside and wouldn't have to get up for that first cup.

Lazy, you say? No. _Practical._

Yagami Raito's best kept secret was that he was not at his best in the morning.

He rolled out of bed, wincing as his bare feet touched the cold tile floor and padded to the bathroom. He thought nothing of the fact that he was naked - he often slept that way.

There was something slightly amiss, he thought as he made his way from the bathroom to the kitchen, loosely tying the sash of his black silk robe. _Something..._Was he forgetting some important detail of the coming workday? But even if he was, Hal would be sure to remind him. She was a fair personal assistant most days. Could cop a bit of an attitude, though.

The coffee, as usual, was too hot to drink the moment it was poured. He frowned into it consideringly, then dropped an ice cube into its rich depths, impatient to feel alert. What that yielded was a slightly unsavory mix of iced and hot coffee, depending on the sip, which was possibly too exciting for the early morning faint-of-heart.

A spoon might have solved that, but he didn't want to be bothered. Besides, the second law of thermodynamics was hard at work, seeing to the evening out of the extremes even now. A few minutes more and all he would have was a pleasingly warm cup of caffeine.

He padded over to the couch and sank down into the leather cushions, curling around his coffee cup and looking out the sliding glass door to his enclosed Japanese garden. It was too early for there to be anything but the barest trace of illumination outside. He sipped his coffee, staring out into the calm darkness, waiting for the chemical reaction to occur that would bring his brain into its normal, fully functional state.

It was as he turned to the end table beside the couch, to engage in his recent morning ritual of poring over the coasters Lawliet's hand had graced, that he realized a great many things at once.

First, as his mind bent to contemplating Lawliet, was the sharp jolt of remembered passion as the night before came into sharper focus than any past dreams had done. Second was that his partner had disappeared like a phantom, leaving only the cold, empty bed Raito was accustomed to waking up to. (His own choice, of course. He typically disliked bringing other people into his home.) Third - and this was what had set it all off, illuminating the situation in such gory detail - was the scattered state of the coasters, moved by hands other than his own.

That his lighter sat beside them, apparently returned to him in a gesture of parting, was the _coup de grâce_.

"Shit," he uttered under his breath. He hadn't meant Lawliet to see his collection. He was never supposed to. It showed a level of... interest on his part that he hadn't wanted the other man to be aware of. He would have put them away had he thought there was a chance in hell he'd have managed to coerce the dark-haired intellectual into his home. Last night had been entirely played by whim, and luck had both graced him and stabbed him in the same fell swoop.

He hadn't been thinking clearly. He never should have brought his quarry home, never should have risked the discovery of his collection...

_Oh, but the taste of him, the feel of him underneath me... the hazy, passionate look in his dark eyes......... can I truly say that it was not worth it? _

Raito closed his eyes, breathing against the pleasure that fluttered in his gut.

It was worth 10,000 discoveries. If only it didn't mark the end of this pursuit. If only he could wind his way so deep into Lawliet that the man could not escape him.

_Just how elusive will you be, Lawliet?_

Raito rose from the couch and went to the front door, confirming that it was unlocked and that Lawliet's jacket was no longer on the floor in front of it. He went to the bedroom and found only his own clothes lying discarded on the floor.

A sudden wave of frustration rolled over him at his own lack of foresight, and Lawliet's nerve at just _leaving_.

_I messed things up._

What was Lawliet thinking when he found the coasters?

Angry? Unnerved? Which might it have been? What pall did that cast over everything?

_He gave back the lighter. He has left no article behind... no excuse for me to call on him._

_Damn him for being an insomniac and needing so little sleep! If I could have woken before him, I would have realized in time. I could have __**hidden **__them. _

For the first time in his life, Raito also found himself grinding his teeth, worried at the possibility that he might snore, drool, or do some other unsightly thing in his sleep and that someone might have borne witness to it. The situation had never really come up before. He needed significantly less sleep than most people he knew, and he was prone to being a light sleeper when sharing a bed. To his knowledge, no one had ever had the opportunity to see him unconscious, past the time when he was a very young child.

It was chafing.

Lawliet had seen him defenseless, maybe _thought_ things at him while he was not able to intercede on his own behalf, **and** he likely now thought of him as a stalker, thanks to the coasters.

What a brilliant day this was turning out to be.

He would ask what else could go wrong, but he knew better.

Raito decided to take a shower and get ready for work before making breakfast. The routine of it would hopefully calm his mind enough that he could work out his strategy, instead of fixating on the fact that Lawliet was _gone_ and meant to stay that way.

He was just getting out of the shower when the phone rang.

Cursing softly, he finished a cursory toweling-off, then wrapped the towel around his waist as he made for the kitchen phone.

"Hello?" he said curtly. He was off of his game. He never answered his phone in such tones, even when pissed off.

"Is everything all right, Raito?"

_Father. _"Yes, perfect." He used the metaphoric equivalent to a crowbar to inject some levity into his voice. "What's the reason for your call?" His father never called without reason.

"Are you working today?"

"Of course. It's a weekday."

There was a stern silence that spoke of disapproval. Raito decided to wait it out and let his father get to the point. His patience, whatever dregs had been left of it, was perilously close to failing. It seemed already that this was going to be one of _those_ talks and he did not have the time nor inclination to deal with it.

"Son, I don't think you have given the police force enough of a chance." Stern. Unyielding. The hint of anger and challenge. His father had never approved of his chosen career, nor had he eased in his efforts to convert him to the law.

"Father," he returned, steel in his voice though he pressed it through a reflexive, sharp smile. "I made up my mind. Years ago, in fact." Being polite was its own sort of agony.

"Is it the money?"

Again, that gruff, overbearing tone. "I fail to see why you keep bringing this up." Raito considered making some eggs, putting this time to good use by multitasking, but he had the feeling he might crush them in a fist of annoyance. _Does Lawliet eat eggs?_ he wondered. He felt his idle thoughts shift then, becoming less forgiving. _Would it have killed him to stick around a little longer?_ he thought churlishly. _What time had he woken and left, anyway?_

"I worry that you will become amoral in that line of work," he father was saying.

"Ha," Raito scoffed. "Amoral... and by whose standards? Aren't you just upset that I did not choose to follow in your footsteps? That I am doing well for myself despite your wishes?"

He could hear indignant blustering on the other end of the line.

"Now, I really must be going. I can't cut into office hours, even for family." It came out with a bit of a snide ring to it. Faint, but there. Not enough to be called out upon though, just enough to make an impression. Family, to him, was an endless string of obligations and restrictions. He'd moved out as soon as he'd been able and hadn't looked back. It was a wonder his father thought to control him at all.

"You people don't keep proper office hours!" his father growled. "You're just a bunch of no good--"

"Careful, Father," he warned quietly. Coldly.

"Raito... you have to understand." His father's voice had turned grudgingly conciliatory, as if it took great effort. "I put people like that away all the time. I don't want my own son to be one of them."

"Yes, well, your sentiments are noted. As such, I am now late, so do try to keep that in mind the next time you decide to call at this time. For the record, I do what I do because it is where I can effect the most change." He hung up as his father rallied his response, and unplugged the phone. He was in no mood, and even on the best of days he disliked justifying himself. It wasn't like he was a drug runner or an arms dealer, for god's sake.

His cell phone rang.

Not his father, he knew - the tone was specially set for his PA whom he currently had no particular desire to speak to. He picked up anyway, on the off-chance it was work related. "Hal," he said first, "what do you want?"

"Oh, did something happen?" she prodded gleefully. "You aren't usually this chipper in the morning."

"My father called again."

"That can't be all it was. Weren't you meeting with that cute, dark-haired guy last night, or did he turn you down?"

"Listen, _Vic_, your role is over. And might I add that you were amazingly useless in digging up any information, and are quite irritating when you keep asking me for his number."

She scoffed at him.

_Scoffed._

"And what did you find out on your own, _Your Highness_?"

_Bitch._ "Like I would tell you anything."

"Like you know anything," she retorted sassily.

He decided to make her pay for that one. "Hmm..." he considered aloud, drawing out the sound to get her going. "But I don't feel it's right," he said loftily, "to disclose the _intimate_ details."

Her gasp of jealous indignation was satisfying. "You _slept_ with him?! You bastard! I--"

He hung up on her and turned his phone off, so that she could stew in silence until he got to work. The rest of the day was looking up if he could torment her with lack of details. He practiced summoning a smile, the face he needed for the outside world, and felt it was sufficient enough to get him by.

* * *

L scowled, crunching through piece after piece of dry frosted mini-wheat cereal and working on his third cup of over-steeped tea, not distracted nearly enough by the generous coating of delicious white sugar that covered a whole side of each one.

Some days, being an insomniac bode ill.

It was natural that he had awakened only a few hours after falling asleep. He only wondered that if he hadn't, would things have turned out differently? For better or for worse?

It had been odd, at first, waking up to someone else's ceiling. In a brief flash of humor he'd felt surprised that, it being Raito's, there was no mirror up there. He sat up carefully, so as not to awaken the sleeping brunet, and looked down on him, watching his chest rise and fall with even breaths. The sheets were tangled about his legs and over his hips in an enticing manner. He seemed less volatile when unconscious. Boyish even, which made L wonder how old Raito even was. Was it his eyes that made him appear so ageless? His expressions? Certainly it was not in these youthful features, the ability to make L dance fore and aft or make him feel buoyant or crestfallen by a mere glance.

Raito shifted, his bangs falling gracefully into his face. His sensual lips parted, moving slightly as if he were speaking, though L could hear nothing. Looking at him now, L could hardly equate him with the same person who had flung him up against the door, kissing him so passionately and stealing all of his power to resist. He just looked too calm and tranquil. Harmless, as if he couldn't shoot ice through your veins just by looking at you with eerily powerful disdain.

It was disturbing that he could do such a thing. That he could be so cold one moment, and hot the next. It had really thrown L for a loop, to be crushed under the weight of the brunet's disapproval one moment - to be _fixated_ on it, no less - and then to be approached in such a recklessly sensual manner so suddenly...

In hindsight, he never should have gotten into the taxi... or at the very least he should have spared a thought to Raito's spoken destination. _'Home.'_ What had he been expecting? For the brunet to offer him dry clothing? For them to chat while Raito made good on his offer to cook? He knew back in the restaurant that he couldn't be alone with the other man. Those veiled, heated looks had gotten under his skin, and he knew he couldn't deny their owner once he'd pulled close.

Despite his fears though, it didn't seem that Raito was intent on making a fool of him. He seemed to harbor genuine desire - though L found that to be odd in and of itself - and their union had been the most profound thing L thought he was ever likely to experience in his lifetime.

L slid out of Raito's bed, now that his eyes had adjusted to the dark, noting that it was a little after 3am as he located his pants on the floor.

He told himself that he was thirsty, and that the brunet was likely going to be asleep for a few hours yet, a good enough reason for wandering through the house and alleviating the restlessness that would peak if he were to try and stay still in bed. Part of that restlessness was being unsure of how he should face the brunet, come morning. Was it appropriate to say, _'Thanks, I had fun?'_ Was it required? Because he was fairly certain the brunet would smirk and twist his words back on him until he was blushing hot with embarrassment.

He'd like to avoid that, really. Dignity was a prized asset.

The other possibility was that this was a one time thing, in which case he was still at a loss as to what to do with himself.

He located a glass and filled it with water. He wasn't particularly thirsty, but it gave him something to do.

One time thing....

It was a troubling thought. But then, it was his own fault for sleeping with someone he hardly knew, which was troubling in its own right, being wildly out of character for him.

L wandered back into the living room, picking out details he had not noticed before in his pass through several hours ago. The room housed a towering case of books along the wall adjoining the hall (almost floor to ceiling), the couch, which sat near the middle of the room, was bracketed on either side by sliding glass doors, lending the place an open feel. The room was exceptionally neat, with its smooth, hardwood floors, perfectly lined up books, and its minimal decor, with the exception of one thing: the couch's end table. L drifted over, quite curious to see what would be deserving of deviation from the rest of the room. The lamp on the table obscured his view for a moment as he drew closer, but when the scattered items finally came into focus, he felt his blood run cold.

_These are..._

He reached out a slightly shaking hand, picking up one of the items and staring at in disbelief. He recognized his own handwriting, his laughable attempts at drawing. He dropped it and picked up another, the cold, prickling feeling getting worse as he rifled through them. _My coasters... they're all here? _

Then he saw it. The first one, with the mockingly drawn 'L' to one up his own. His vision swam as he stared at it and could see the pile of others behind it, cramped writing crawling darkly across the cardboard surfaces, the thoughts they embodied scrambling and vying for the loudest voice. Insistent little snippets, flashing out bits of thought and memory, the vehicles of their birth, until it was quite a cacophony of silent horror.

It all lent a different pallor to things said, and looks exchanged.

Raito's insistence with him. The evasions, and the insinuations. The vaguely mocking amusement. Even the harsh breaths in his ear as he let Raito use his body.

_'Come for me, Lawliet. Only me.'_

The possessiveness, the air of entitlement...

Raito had been cornering him, stalking him, misleading him, toying with him. _And to what end? How entrapped am I to become?_ Any way you looked at this, it was not normal. _Exceedingly_ not normal and cause for concern.

He had a brief flash of Raito locking him in a room, never allowing him out, nor contact with anyone but Raito himself.

Was it so fanciful? So outlandish an imagining? He looked at the pile of coasters, feeling utterly violated, trepidation and anger rising up in equal fury. He wanted to cast them to the floor or burn them, but he couldn't afford the noise. He felt betrayed, lost, and skittish.

What did he really know about Raito? Not nearly enough that he could discount the little signs he'd seen so far... the neatness, the lack of respect for others and their property, the hot and cold swings of his mood, and that oh-so-charming exterior... he very well could be a sociopath. Add to that his displayed hobby of stalking, and there was no telling if he might also be predisposed to killing.

It was not a conclusion he jumped to lightly. It was not even more than 5% likely to be the case. However, it was still possible. As such, he would not dismiss it, and would act accordingly for his own well being.

L dropped the coaster onto the pile of them and went, carefully, into the bedroom to retrieve his shirt. Tension crawled up his spine as he tiptoed in. He reached for the shirt and jumped as the brunet rolled onto his side, facing him. Heart pounding in his throat, he remained frozen, watching his face for signs of wakefulness. There were none. There was only the smooth curve of his cheek, the strong planes of his torso, the sultry flare of lean hips barely covered, and the long line of well-shaped legs.

L's mouth felt dry.

_Why is he so beautiful?_

His mind warred with itself. _Get back into that bed and hope for the best? Taking the chance that he might be psycho and could stab you or some other such gruesome thing? Or leave now, cut your losses, and make safety a priority?_

It was a tougher decision than it should have been.

_(Of course, he could always be perfectly sane, and is merely going to laugh at you later for thinking this interaction might have a snowball's chance in hell at continuing.)_

That did it. He slid his shirt off the floor and over his head, jumpy at the thought of those gorgeous, commanding eyes opening and leaving him powerless.

Retreating back to the living room, too distraught to properly appreciate the mournful state of his still-damp clothing (the shirt was especially cold) he grabbed his jacket off the floor and put it on. He began shivering and he wasn't sure if it was entirely from his saturated attire. Almost reflexively, his hands dug into his pockets, and one wrapped around a slim metal object.

He drew out the lighter, mixed feelings swarming him.

_Whatever he is, he isn't normal._

He took halting steps back to the table with the coasters and stared down. _'Lawliet...'_ Even now, he could hear that sinful, carnal voice calling him, crawling up his spine and dragging him down. He could see those eyes caging him with their intensity, winding through him like invisible bonds to hold him still. He could feel the ghosts of hands on his skin, pulling feelings from his body that he hadn't known he was capable of, drowning him in them.

_'Only me.'_

The complete lack of control that L felt any time the brunet was concerned was the motivating factor.

_Whatever he is, he's dangerous._

He put the lighter down next to the coasters, knowing the message it conveyed. Raito had hit him like a storm from the moment they'd first met, and it was only increasing. It was only becoming more confusing and convoluted as Raito pulled him further and further into his territory. He had to take a step back. He needed time to think. Too much was happening too fast and he did not know where it would end up.

* * *

Around noon, L crept down the stairs to find something to munch on (hoping to avoid running into Watari or anyone else for that matter).

Sometime near four in the afternoon, he did the same.

He was half annoyed that the cases he was working on were being so tedious, half grateful that they were because they were wonderfully distracting. That being the case, he didn't feel inclined to eat more than what was easily portable and quickly procured. Not the most nutritious of choices, pretzel sticks and and twizzlers, but they were good brain food. He forewent the chocolate dip for the pretzles, not wanting to spare the extra time and energy, nor risk increasing the chances that Watari would emerge from his study.

He wasn't being avoidant... He just did not feel like speaking with anyone. It would interfere with work. Yes.

If he were being more honest, however, he could admit to the vague paranoia that Celia might pop up at any time to pinch his cheeks and harass him about the birds and the bees (an idiomatic expression which was inexplicably popular despite its tendency to poorly convey what L considered to be near quintessential knowledge). Ever since that night Watari introduced them, he'd never been entirely sure when to next expect to see her in their house. Did they just go out on dates? Did Watari have her stay over for the evening?

L blanched at the thought of anything intimate occurring between the older couple under his roof. _Their_ roof, he corrected. He and Watari were cohabitants after all, and held equal claim, but still.

He thudded lightly up the stairs, trying in vain not to let that thought mutate into just what intimacies he had engaged in under _Raito's_ roof, the memories nipping at his heels.

Had he lost his mind to let someone that close? Someone he barely knew?

What had happened to his reservations??

His habit of self-preservation?

Or even his long-standing self-consciousness around other humans?

He closed his door and sat down at his desk, willing his mind to stop flickering with the feeling of Raito's mouth consuming his, or the sinful touch of heated skin along his body.

Shaking his head, he chewed viciously on a twizzler, refusing to dwell upon the more scandalous things like parted thighs and gasping breaths, though he could feel the hot blaze of a flush claiming his cheeks. How had he come to let something like this occur? And with a pen-stealing, potentially sociopathic, well-dressed, charismatic person such as Raito?

Good god. His logic was falling prey to temptations of the flesh.

It was a sad day in the life of a man who prized his mental integrity above all else.

To further illustrate his flawed grey matter, he couldn't make up his mind if the coaster issue was purely horrifying (as it should be), or if it came off as somewhat endearing in a freakish sort of way. He supposed the scales would tip a little more favorably to the former were it to come to light that the brunet did have a propensity for serial killing... but he really disliked the thought that that was what it would take for someone to harbor an interest in him. As such, he found himself inclined to want to push that possibility aside.

_Ted Bundy was charming, too_, he reminded himself.

Best to leave all of this alone.

_Oh, look, data has found me,_ he thought dryly as he checked his inbox. _A perfect reason to actually do work and stop fixating on things that I have decided will no longer affect me. _

He pulled up a new screen or two and started typing in a mad flurry of pale, spidery fingers. _It must have been a one-night stand. Otherwise he might have called or texted me later... _

_Not that I want him to. It just seems like the sort of thing he would do._

His brow furrowed in annoyance.

Sometimes being able to multitask to great extents was not a helpful ability. Now he was thinking about Raito's short, bordering on rude texts and how they reflected a great deal on the brunet's sense of entitlement. The one-upmanship was also irritating, as was Raito's disregard for his wet clothing the other night at the restaurant. It was a wonder he didn't get sick.

_Now that I think about it, he probably planned it all from the beginning, and fully expected me to fall in bed with him, no questions asked._

Entitled.

It kind of pissed L off. It was such an abuse of power - of the natural gifts that had been lavished upon the brunet - such as his looks, his inescapable charm, and his intelligence. The list could go on, but L was not of a mind to praise the coaster collector's attributes. It was as if he were a devil dressed as an angel, walking around as if he were God. Maybe he only pursued those that did not immediately drop to their knees. Perhaps he was bored with mindless adoration, despite the fact that he seemed to expect it. No, _demand_ it.

L picked up another twizzler and chewed on it aggressively, staring with fixed eyes on his screen, refusing the urge to check into the brunet's background. He was not a stalker; he would absolutely _not_ start acting like one. He was _working_. Work demanded focus. Discipline.

Oh, fucking_ Aiber_ had emailed him.

Wonderful.

Making a sour face, he clicked on the message.

_Greetings, Illustrious L._

_I have come across something you might find of interest through a mutual acquaintance of ours. Rather, your personal acquaintance and my temporary employer. Quite the interesting client, if I do say so myself._

L could just hear the self-satisfied, mocking amusement in Aiber's words. Intolerable, as always. But... what had the man found out that he felt was worthy of baiting him with? Personal acquaintance... The first thing that popped into his mind was Raito, as L didn't have many connections outside of work and the brunet was the most recent. It didn't help that he was also unsuccessfully trying not to think of him. Anyway, what were the odds?

_I can't say more due to the non-disclosure clause, of course. I happen to be in town if you would like to discuss other business. _

Of _course_. L rolled his eyes. Aiber didn't give a crap about things like that, made exceedingly apparent by his veiled invitation to feed L information were they to meet. He had to give the Nazi credit for making his personal emails seem professional. It was unlikely that anyone skimming his words would find fault or fraud.

_If you are disinclined to be personable, or are otherwise preoccupied, we can always catch up over the next job. You are an excellent assistant, after all._

L grit his teeth. _'Disinclined to be personable.'_ What a playful way to smack at his less successful dealings with people, (while trying to goad him into accepting the invitation). Aiber loved rubbing that in. Just like he loved acting like L was his very own PA, or that he needed Aiber's help in finding job leads.

_By the way, my friend, Mr. Sakizawa seems to enjoy taking his correspondences over the phone or during a game of golf. Just something to keep in mind as you do love your computer, and I do love getting your clients. (Fore!)_

_A._

_Bastard_, L thought viciously, chewing on his thumb. _Damn Nazi bastard._ He was probably stealing Sakizawa even now, or had already stolen him.

The question was, did he send over his current progress, or did he withhold it in case the information went straight to Aiber and was accredited to him as well? Hmn. If Aiber was warning him, his client was probably as good as gone. Still, he supposed he could have Watari call the man in the morning... Or...he could call himself. What an annoyance. He hated calling clients. But if he were ever going to grow his experiment into something more widely applicable, he should extend his personal torment to the work realm and not limit it to dark bars and drinking to free his mind.

The other question was, why was Aiber in town? Had something piqued his interest or was he merely making an ass of himself by stationing himself in L's territory and swindling his clients out from under him with those faux movie star smiles and... golf skills?

L shook his head. Golf. He never would have suspected.

He hit the reply button and stared at the cursor a moment, composing his reply before moving his fingers over the keys.

_What good news. If I suddenly discover time for a new hobby, I will keep your suggestion in mind. I am currently not in the position to meet with your other request, as I am much too busy with the cases in my queue, Sakizawa not withstanding. Why you should decide to relocate to Tokyo right now is beyond me, as the constant rain would surely cramp your style._

_L_

Having sent that off, L leaned back in his chair and wondered why he spent more time dealing with Aiber than he did most people, and he couldn't even stand the guy. Surely there must be people out there that were not so unlikeable, that could maintain communication of some sort? The man was like those nasty joint aches some people suffered when the weather turned too cold or wet - though dormant at times, he was always sure to reappear.

A small bit of movement on the screen caught his eye.

Aiber had already responded.

_L,_

_I don't feel compelled to take Sakizawa if you are lean in work. Come out and have a drink or dinner. Loosen up. I promise you'll find it worth your while. _

_A._

Scratch that, Sakizawa was already in Aiber's clutches. Damn.

_I'll think about it._

_L_

There wasn't a whole lot to think about. He was extremely curious to know what Aiber might know, but the thought of suffering the man's presence was not a pleasant one, nor was drinking or dining with him. He didn't bother correcting Aiber's comment on work being slow. It was just something to wind him up. L had enough cases to hack away at, and Sakizawa's was certainly not the most profitable. It was no great loss. Just another warm fuzzy that he wanted to choke the blond man with.

There was a light but firm knock on L's door which roused him partially from his thoughts. _What would this client of Aiber's have to do with me, anyway?_

"Come in," he called. It was somewhat annoying that Watari had still not broken that habit after all these years. It wasn't like he was ever doing things in here that needed hidden; he just worked and occasionally slept.

_Well..._

_...except for that one time,_ he thought, vaguely mortified that he had indulged in self-gratification while imagining another person, especially Raito.

He pushed the matter of sexual fantasies FAR out of his head. the last thing he needed was to start thinking about the brunet, or the very real events of last night. L looked up as the door clicked shut to see what the older man wanted and nearly fell out of his chair. "What are _you_ doing here??" he gasped out past the sudden squeezing in his chest.

Standing just inside the door, regarding him calmly, shrouded in an air of casual beauty that was nothing less than devastating...

Raito.

L stared, open-mouthed, feeling his palms become damp within his clenched hands.

THE Raito, was in his _house_.

"May I?" the brunet asked lightly, ignoring his question and inviting himself into the room to L's indignant shock.

"No, you may _not_," he said emphatically, to which Raito shrugged and sat down on his bed anyway.

His heart was beating a little too fast and he couldn't determine whether it was due to trepidation, anger, or excitement. Raito seemed perfectly at ease in his space, perfectly comfortable, as if he had every right to be there. How had Raito discovered where he lived? He was not exactly listed anywhere. "Why are you here? How did you get in?"

"Your manservant let me in," Raito said, meeting his gaze and arching a perfect brow as if it was not only a stupid question, but quite possibly THE stupidest question he might have asked.

L bristled, irritation winning out in the face of absurdity. _What is it with this rich-kid mentality?! Someone answering the door automatically makes them staff?_ "Watari is _not_ my manserv--" He caught on at the last moment, saw a flicker of mirth in Raito's eyes. The brunet was baiting him. "Oh-ho, you're really funny. Hilarious." He glared down at the brunet's I'm-so-innocent face imperiously. "You have five seconds to start telling me what you are doing here. After that, I'll have you removed."

Raito made himself more comfortable on the bed, leaning back on his elbows. The shirt he wore under his expensive-looking coat rode up his stomach a little, exposing the thinnest strip of enticing, tanned skin. "So cold, Lawliet. Were you only using me for my body after all?"

L's eyes snapped back to Raito's face and he dearly wished he had something to throw at the brunet's head. Not only because he hadn't meant to look, but because he despised this sort of teasing and the way he was flushing at even the most roundabout mention of their intimacy the night before.

If that was his intruding guest's mood, he didn't have to endure it. "If you aren't leaving, I will."

_Let Watari deal with him then,_ he thought as he stalked towards the door. _Maybe I should just meet__** Aiber **__or something instead._

"Lawliet." Raito's voice was sharp and commanding, stopping him in his tracks.

L turned and spared him a baleful glare. The humor of a moment ago had fled the brunet's face. He looked quite serious, all teasing and playfulness in absence as his eyes pinned L to the spot. "Your questions..." he offered solemnly. "Ask whatever you like and I'll answer."

L sized him up, not seeing the reason for the other man to be so forthcoming all of a sudden.

Raito smiled and spread his hands. "It was part of our agreement, after all."

_'Is that all you wish to know?' Raito had said, humor lurking in his voice as he surveyed L in the cradling darkness of the cab's nearly private back seat._

_'There is quite a deal more,' L said staunchly, trying to ignore the pull of those eyes in the name of pining the brunet down for some answers, 'but I think that is a fair place to start."_

_"Hmmm," Raito had practically purred in the back of his throat, sending ripples of fluttering desire through L. It was a reaction L was desperately fighting and losing to. "And what is my reward for answering?"_

Agreement? The way L remembered, it was a distraction technique that made ample use of bedroom eyes, a husky voice, and the dangerously seductive application of lips, mouth, and hands. What the hell kind of agreement was that? And the insinuation that L would put out just to get a bit of questioning in... Or that that sort of payment was even desired by brunet... L scowled and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You're unbelievable," he muttered, trying to hide evidence of a blush while he secretly killed it.

"Thank you," Raito returned with a visible smirk, accepting the criticism as if it were praise to preen over. Warmth spilled into those eyes unexpectedly, pulling L into their little flames, promising him a sweet end if he were to come within range. Banked passion shifted there, held in check for the moment, for the situation, but it flickered if he stared too long.

Resigned to his inability to escape that dark amber gaze, he doggedly shuffled back to his chair. He sat upon it backwards, leaning his arms upon the chair's back - a nice little barrier to keep between them. He didn't quite believe Raito would disclose anything about himself, but the prospect that he _might_ was just too enticing to pass up. "What is your profession?" he asked, affecting a deadpan voice.

"Political Lobbyist," was the candid reply.

_He answered?_ L was shocked for a moment, then his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Then why do you seem to have so much money?"

"Pass," Raito said with a smile.

"This isn't a game," L said with exasperation, the bubble that was _The Spirit of Cooperation_ having just burst in his face.

"According to whom? Isn't life just one big game?"

Ah, there was that sharp look, the razor-like humor and challenge that L didn't want to touch with a 10-foot pole. Considering he often acted against his best interests where the brunet was concerned, he probably would anyway, but he didn't feel the need to get into Raito's personal philosophy just yet.

"We'll come back to that," L said.

L debated asking what he really wanted, and weighed the odds of receiving a true answer. "Raito..." he paused, the name feeling silky and forbidden upon his tongue. "Explain the coasters." If he was short with words it was partly because the whole thing rubbed him the wrong way... and partly because he was confronting the first person he'd ever slept with being a stalker, and things like that were just sort of difficult to pull off without sounding accusatory.

Again, Raito looked at him with nonchalantly raised brows. "I was curious. It wasn't as if I went to great pains to procure them."

L frowned. "You have _every_ single one."

"Fascinating coincidence, isn't it?" Raito agreed.

They stared each other down. Raito was unrepentant in his frustratingly obvious sidestepping, and L was obviously frustrated. _So much for his willingness to answer questions openly. I only got one out of three!_ "You aren't being particularly illuminating, Yagami-san."

"I'd rather you call me Raito," the brunet said with a secret smile. "I much prefer the sound of _that_ name on your tongue."

L felt his loins throb and was aghast that all it took was subtle inflection and a change in the eyes for the brunet to accomplish it. How easily he'd conjured up the sound of L speaking that name in passion. Blasphemous demon. L bit the inside of his mouth and tried to regain control of himself, and possibly the situation.

"What time is it?" Raito asked casually as he watched L, despite the quite obvious watch on his wrist.

L sent him a baleful glare, wondering at his laziness, or perhaps his obsessive need to make people do things for him.

The beautiful brunet let his gaze darken with disapproval, and raised his brows in imperious command.

L grumbled and got up so he could face his computer. Wiggling the mouse to dispel the laptop's black screensaver, he checked the time. Six? Was it already so late? He turned to relay the information as arms slid around his waist and soft lips descended on his.

_Oh god, why is he so good at his?_

He sank into it, all the while thinking he shouldn't. Shouldn't be so susceptible to Raito's soft, hot mouth, or his skillful manipulations. He shouldn't fall into wanting this closeness so badly.

L's brain took temporary leave as the kiss grew more passionate, not to mention the feeling of Raito's body against his.

_God..._

That throbbing in his loins was fast becoming deep-seated lust.

It was a lust that was also pissed beyond all hell when Raito pulled back, and wasn't placated when one, and then two kisses were pressed against his hungry lips.

"Mm, I'd love to continue that thought," Raito said, looking as if he were flirting with the thought of another real kiss, "but we're late."

_So if not a one-night stand, might it be a two-night stand the brunet wanted? _L wondered. _Wait, late for what?_ "What are you talking about?" L asked with confusion as his mind hopped around in gimp-legged circles.

"Dinner, and I promise you that it will be an enlightening experience."

L considered this carefully. _A date? An apology?_ In any case, he took this to mean that more of his questions had a hope of being answered, and for that, he would play along. He was rather determined to peel back some of the mystery that cloaked his companion, and even his misbegotten lust could be set aside for that.

However, the venue he expected could not have been any more the opposite of the one at which they arrived in a small suburban community. It was with fresh horror, as Raito's vehicle turned into one of the driveways, that L realized what might actually be in store.

* * *

TBC

**A/N:** I finished the next part today, but posting it now would only guarantee a really long wait for part 8. So... part 7 will be next week.

**Thank you, all of you who are reviewing!** I'm sorry time is not allowing me to reply.

Oh, and a HUGE thank you and a hug to blueseashells. You had me cracking up, and loving every word. XD Thank you so much for your support!! 3 (Don't worry about back-reviewing aBfSF! 10 chapters would take forever, so do whatever time and inclination allow you, my dear, and don't stress. I'll talk to you soon.)


	7. Parental Units

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 7

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you all love this one for its dinner awkwardness! ;)

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

_

* * *

_

Part 7: (Parental Units)

Social aversion was like a bomb exploding in L's face as Raito parked the car and L stared at the residence in horror. You could say that it was full blown panic and leave it at that.

"Where are we?" L asked in his best attempt at a level voice. Either he was about to be murdered, or he was about to wish he _were_ being murdered if his suspicions were correct.

"My parents'."

L's fingers gripped the edges of his seat. "_Why?_"

Raito spared him a pitying look. "To have dinner."

L glared back. "I meant why am **I** here? I didn't sign up for this!"

Raito smiled a smile that was not entirely reassuring and looked like he just might harbor some hidden amusement at L's expense. "You'll be fine. I'll make it up to you later."

"That is," Raito added, leaning over to L's side and trapping him with his voice and eyes, "if you'll let me, Lawliet."

_Damn it. _Resisting the brunet never failed to prove difficult when he was feeling persuasive.

Elegant fingers tilted his face upwards as Raito brushed a tantalizing kiss across his lips. Soft lips, warm and lingering, imparted a sense of urgency with their slow caresses. Lips parted his and slick heat slid within his mouth, filling it with the taste of the brunet - the taste of desire. It burned through him before he found the strength to break the circuit of something too penetrating to be called a kiss. "Raito," he choked out. _Have some decency!_ "Stop, your parents--"

"Might look out the window at any moment?" Raito interrupted. "Hmn, that would be a problem. Are we going inside then, or do you require further convincing?" His innocent smile was at odds with the hand smoothing up L's thigh.

"Inside," L gulped, trying to dislodge the hand as it continued its creeping ascent.

"I'd love to hear you say that in another context," Raito whispered in his ear, squeezing L's thigh and making him gasp.

L fought him off and fought to calm his body so he could leave the car, aware of the brunet's smirking gaze upon him. What sort of inhuman being _was_ Raito that he positively oozed sex no matter what he did? It was indecent and it wasn't _fair_. L got out of the car before he wondered too fully if he was referring to that strange talent or the fact that they were not in a place where it could be acted upon.

The house might well have been the famous Amityville house for all the cold chills it gave him.

He decided to rally himself mentally for the few dozen steps it took to reach the front door. Maybe Raito had realized he'd come off as a deranged sociopath, what with his stalker tendencies, and was trying to show a bit of normalcy by inviting L to have dinner and observe him in a family setting. Speaking of which, he wondered what Raito had told them. He doubted that he had been introduced as _'the guy I met at a bar'_ or _'the guy I just slept with and was molesting in the car not five minutes ago.'_

L grimaced. At least he was not wearing his typical attire. The pants, yes; those were his usual because Raito had insisted that in changing those in front of him, L would only be making them grievously late.

That Raito had insisted by murmuring directly in his ear, his hands covering L's and either stopping them from undoing the button or encouraging him to drag them off (it was hard to tell), made it obvious _why_ they were going to be late. As it was, changing his long-sleeved white shirt with the black button-down shirt he now wore was a lesson in feeling naked while still being mostly clothed.

He had less than a second to brace himself before Raito opened the door.

"Oh look, dear, Raito brought a friend home!" an older woman with short, dark brown hair twittered excitedly, "Isn't that nice?"

Raito's father, a man with stern features and black hair shot through with silver at the temples, eyed L with an unfriendly, appraising look as if he wanted to ask what _sort_ of friend.

This look continued through the introductions, through dinner and on into dessert.

Oddly enough, Raito chose to introduce him simply as L. The mother and father introduced themselves as such, Sachiko and the Chief of Police, respectively. It was not a good sign that Raito's father had given his rather intimidating title as opposed to his actual name.

Dinner was a subdued affair, full of cutlery clinking against ceramic dinner plates, and quiet attempts at conversation. Primarily, these came from Raito and his mother. L kept as quiet and inoffensive as possible while Raito's father honed, sharpened, and leveled that Look at him.

Being scrutinized in such a hostile manner did nothing for L's appetite. He methodically cut up food, ate some of it, not being aware of what it actually was, and prayed that he had not been thrust into the middle of a family feud. He did not know Raito's preferences, if he regularly got involved with men, or if he liked women as well, but... was it possible that he had brought L here merely for the purpose of becoming a segue into such a controversial topic? _Dear god, I hope not._ But the suspicion on the father's face, and his seeming disapproval of L, certainly pointed to an impending blowup over sexual orientation, be it of the brunet's design or not.

The Look culminated in a twisting of the elder Yagami's mouth until, finally, he spoke the words. "What _sort_ of friend, Raito?" He glared at his son in challenge.

"Please, dear, not at the table," Raito's mother said under her breath.

Raito did not look fazed in the least. He was serving L some rice pudding, which L did not have the appetite for, and said, matter of factly, "I'm sleeping with him."

Raito's father gaped, L gaped, and the entire room fell silent until Raito's mother said, "Oh. Well... that's nice, isn't it?"

This did nothing to dissipate the bone-cracking tension in the room.

Raito sighed in annoyance and handed L his bowl. L took it, convinced that human combustion sounded like a grand idea. He was so beyond mortified, his mind felt like it was caving in on itself. He avoided looking at either of the parents, and wondered if Raito secretly had it in for him. _Did he bring me here to torture me on purpose or is he that blasé about such things? _

Raito heaved a sigh. "It's not like he's in politics," he said finally.

Raito's father blinked. "He's not in..." he repeated, then turned to L. "You're not in politics?" he demanded.

"N-no, sir."

The smile that burst forth on the elder man's face was near beatific. "Well then, that is another matter altogether!"

L was scared. Insanity obviously ran in the family.

"Now if only my son were to see the error of his ways... Try to rub off on him, L." The Police Chief paused. "What is it you do for a living?"

"Ah... detective work," L said haltingly. He didn't like _everyone_ to know, but he couldn't think of a believable alternative.

"Hmn." Raito's father nodded in approval. "Good, upstanding profession. Do you smoke?"

"No, sir."

This had to be one of the strangest interrogations L had ever experienced.

"Excellent! You might let that rub off on him as well. By the way, you can just call me Soichiro."

"Do you drink, dear?" Raito's mother asked.

"Occasionally--"

"Sachiko, there is nothing wrong with a little alcohol," Raito's father admonished his wife in a lecturing tone. "Leave the boy alone."

_Insane, _L thought. _They were all perfectly insane. _No wonder the brunet was demented. L glanced at Raito to see him hiding an amused smirk as their eyes met.

"In fact, why don't I open that bottle of red American wine?"

L turned back to the older man, cringing at the thought of losing even one iota of brain function potential while in this madhouse. He felt he should break the silence, but was there even a polite was to abstain?

"No thank you father, I don't drink wine," Raito declined.

L surreptitiously shot him a cockeyed look. Or maybe it was Raito that made his family crazy? The brunet obviously _did_ drink wine, L had seen him do it the other night.

"Worthless son," the elder Yagami male muttered dismissively. L caught the mirth in Raito's eyes before they lowered and the brunet took a sip of water. "How about you, L?" the man turned to him hopefully.

"I'm fine," he started, awkwardly rolling out his refusal while hoping not to make a bad impression that would cause a resurgence in that awful look he'd endured most of the meal.

"Don't hold back on my account," Raito said, leisurely sealing his fate.

"It's settled then," Raito's father said happily, jumping up to fetch the bottle.

"Raito, you shouldn't pressure your friend to drink if he doesn't want to," Sachiko admonished primly. To L she said, "You don't have to if you don't want to, dear."

"No, no, that's quite all right, Yagami-san." L secretly wondered what Raito's motive was. It seemed the mother knew him better than the father, at any rate. Interesting. Was it woman's intuition that made her more perceptive than the Chief of Police? It was either quite impressive or quite unnerving.

"Well, if you're sure."

"Sure of what?" Raito's father asked, as he returned with the uncorked bottle and two glasses.

"Sure that he might well help you finish that bottle, if you are so inclined, father," Raito said smoothly. "He's had a rough day."

L made a futile attempt to kick Raito under the table. It was hard to accomplish, since the brunet was sitting on his left.

"I hope you weren't part of that, Raito," Sachiko hummed under her breath.

_Well, yes, actually,_ L wanted to say, _he was not just part, but the whole of my misfortune lately. Did you know he enjoys not-dinners as a special brand of foreplay? He follows that up by inadvertently displaying evidence of being quite the tenacious stalker. You should be proud._

Raito said, "Well, he is a bit aggravated with me for dropping by unannounced."

_Yes, to my house that you inexplicably know the location of!_

"Oh dear, that is a bit of a glare you have there," Sachiko said to L with a bit of a giggle. "You weren't working, I hope?"

"I was, actually."

"Well here, son, try this on for size and it will make all of that just float away," Soichiro put the full glass of red in front of him.

_Hopefully not taking my brain with it._

L could feel the brunet's intense eyes on him as he hefted the glass to his lips and took an experimental sip. They burned along his exposed skin as he took another.

_Not bad._ He said as much, and Soichiro beamed. "I told you it was good! Drink up, drink up!"

"Raito," the brunet's mother sought her son's attention. L caught the tail end of predatory eyes moving from him and adjusting to something more mundane as he focused on her. "Your sister wanted to know when we are celebrating your birthday so she can come home from university."

"Sayu," Raito muttered with a sigh. "Why would she ask that? She comes home practically every weekend anyway."

"It's not every day her big brother turns 24."

L barely avoided choking on the wine. _24?! This scandalously charismatic demon in angel's clothing is younger than me?_

Raito's exasperation turned into a smug little smile as he surveyed L. "Ah, so you are older."

_What __**are **__you?_ L thought, not for the first time.

Raito winked at him.

L pointedly turned back to his wine.

Maybe if he were exceedingly drunk, this would not seem so outlandish. Then again, maybe he should just take a moment to collect his thoughts. He finished the glass of wine and dutifully drank part of a second before asking Sachiko if he might use their restroom. It was probably the only room that would guarantee a brief respite. He thanked her and stood, surprised at the rubber-like quality of his legs. Either that wine packed a punch or the glasses looked deceptively smaller than they actually were.

With concentrated effort, he kept most of the wobble out of his walk until he reached the hall. Sighing, he leaned against the wall and wondered how in the hell he had gotten himself in this situation. The conversation at the table felt like a crossfire. It was exhausting.

Picking himself up, he continued to the bathroom and flicked on the light. Now he could support a wall in safety. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back on it. Five minutes? He probably couldn't take more than that.

"Hiding, Lawliet?" A gilded voice said softly, not a dozen moments later, to the sound of an opening door.

_Annoyance. Butterflies. _"I might have been using the restroom, you know." It was strange, but he was sure now that Raito had not only refrained from using his full name this evening, but had not referred to him as L either, though he had instructed his parents to do so. Was he aware of the ways in which L's full name could be used to twist him up? Or did he somehow know that he alone called L by that name and wanted to keep it that way?

"It was unlikely," Raito said dismissively, sounding closer. "And you would have locked the door."

"What is your excuse for coming back here?" He heard the soft footfalls approaching. His pulse kept double time.

The feel of a warm body drew close and the intoxicating scent of the brunet filled his senses.

"I wish I could ravish you," Raito spoke conspiratorially against his lips, suddenly pressing him against the wall. L's eyes flickered open as Raito's leg slid between his thighs and Raito's mouth cut off the noise that tried to escape his drunken lips.

Hot, wet, dizzying.

Disorientation swam over him and he felt like a butterfly pinned to a mounting board, stunned and helpless to free itself.

It was too wrong to be doing this, here of all places, Raito's parents waiting in the other room. He tried to turn his head to break the kiss, but the brunet's hands cupped his face and held him still. He felt his body temperature rise and his face flush against his will.

He couldn't withstand this sort of thing.

He couldn't bear up against such raw, carnal fervor.

His body reacted as powerfully as the night before, shaking with the effort of standing when that mouth was devouring his. An articulate hand had trailed down to his hip, tracing the curve of flesh and bone and deviating to stroke the soft skin of his belly. His muscles twitched beneath those fingertips, anticipating and craving that touch... he wanted them to drift lower, to alight upon the fire they'd set.

Anything.

Anything but this torturous building of sensation. Instead of trying to push the brunet away, he was now just grasping weakly at Raito's arms.

Raito's hips moved gently against his, as he bent to explore the column of L's neck.

An accidental motion? Oh, but the feel of it. _The feel of it._ It was sparking within him and all he wanted was its repeat. "Rai...to," he groaned as teeth nipped his neck and hips rolled once more against his. His face flushed even more as he realized it was not only himself that lay hard and firm between them.

"So inconvenient," Raito uttered, face buried in L's neck and hair. "I want you so badly..." His hand toyed with the waistband of L's jeans. "Can I?" he breathed, his fingers slipping lower, teasing.

L shook his head back and forth.

_Not here..._

_No, _he corrected himself. _I shouldn't be doing this _anywhere _with... _

"Would you hate me, Lawliet?" Raito asked in a silky tone, those clever fingers making contact with his aching flesh, barely touching, inciting an even stronger need for sensation. _Oh god_. Need was nearly blinding in its intensity and dangerously close to overwhelming rational thought. "Stop," he choked out, mortified at the begging and raw tone in his voice. "I can't..."

Cool fingertips burned his flesh with their sinful caresses, a whispering mouth plied the skin of his throat with a trail of promised pleasures as Raito's lean body caged his.

"Does your sense of morality inhibit you, or is it something else?"

"Not here, please."

"And if I bring you somewhere else?"

"..." It was so hard to think. But he did not want to succumb to this, to have it written across his body and mind, and have to show that face to others right after. Would they be able to see it? Would they guess? They had already been too long.

"Answer me, Lawliet," Raito murmured, his voice rich and heady. "I'm not a patient man. Can I have you at my leisure or shall we continue here?"

L was not used to this level of physical desire. He was not accustomed to having anything roll his mind like this. Half-formed thoughts flitted through his head, such as vague self-warnings about not knowing this individual, the follies of putting himself too at the mercy of him, or even the propensity the brunet had for avoiding revealing much of himself at all. Above even that was the way Raito could back him into these tight little spaces, offering him choices that were anything but. How could it really be considered a choice when there was only one viable option?

"Raito..." his voice caught on the rest of the words, so foreign was the sound of his own thready voice, forcing him to start again. "Don't do this... here... I don't want..." _I don't want you to. I don't want you to stop. I don't want anyone to know about this, to see me like this. _

"Say yes, and we'll leave right now."

_I don't think I should be alone with you._

L's head dipped in what could be considered assent. Raito was too convincing. He was too skilled at pulling L into his pace and directing his every move, and to what purpose? Was it all benign? Could it be simple attraction, or where there darker things at work? Raito was more than the surface he presented, but what lurked behind that polished exterior?

A soft knocking at the door surprised them both. "L, dear, are you still in there?" It was Raito's mother. "Are you ok? Do you need anything? I would've asked Raito, but he seems to have disappeared on me."

L froze, and his befuddled mind could not come up with a single thing to diffuse the situation. This is what he had been afraid of.

The handle actually started to turn.

_**Panic.**_

Suddenly, L found himself being peeled off the wall and forced to his knees in front of the toilet. Raito's hands were a firm, unrelenting pressure on his shoulders, bearing down on him through his confused flailing. "Come in, mother," Raito greeted from over his shoulder, as she was doing just that. "L isn't feeling very well," Raito said, smoothing a gentle hand over L's back that served to keep him bent over the porcelain bowl. "Could you get me something for his stomach?"

It registered then. How convenient that any evidence of arousal they may have shown was hidden in L's forced crouch and Raito's turned body.

"Of course, Raito," his mother said. "I was wondering what made you come back here, though..."

"Oh, it was just to grab something off of my bookshelf that I thought L might find of interest. The door was ajar when I was passing back by."

His bookshelf? Did Raito retain a room here, even though he had his own place to live?

"If it was the food, L, I'm so terribly sorry," she fretted in apology.

L shook his head, and she excused herself to go get some medicine.

The second she was gone, Raito dropped down and said, "Wait here," in a hushed voice, before vanishing as well.

L supposed it was to grab a book to fill in for the one he had most certainly not gone to get in the first place, and would need in order to back up his fabrication. Part of L wanted to see him get caught in the lie by having his mother return first. Another part wished to see Raito make it back first. He wasn't sure if that part was concerned with merely keeping his dignity as intact as possible, or whether he was a little grateful that Raito had decided to keep their indiscretions hidden. The brunet hadn't seemed to mind being mind-blowingly blunt and open about it earlier... _is it possible he's doing this out of consideration for me?_

The door swung open half-way and L cringed, sure it would be Sachiko, but it was merely the devilish and unpredictable brunet, book in hand. He walked the book over to a small white table behind L and set it down, then returned to his side, crouching down next to him. "You look charming when you're terrified," Raito whispered in his ear engagingly, making L's stomach do flip-flops.

_Who says that?_ he thought in another flash of conflicting emotions, whipping his eyes to the brunet's face.

Raito was smiling darkly. He reached a hand up to touch L's face possessively, brushing his thumb across L's cheek. "Soon, you'll be all mine." Damning lips branded L's own, claiming them with a chaste but lingering kiss. It tasted of sin and corruption and inescapable desire that would blacken any purity he had within him.

L turned away, his mind teeming and chaotic.

It was a bad idea to be alone with him, wasn't it? And that is where this would lead, after this farce of sickness had been played out and they took their leave? He couldn't trust himself to be level-headed, to question Raito as he should, to be able to maintain the physical distance that would allow him to be objective.

"Raito," Sachiko said, reappearing. "Have him take this. Here is some water."

L took the medicine like an obedient little child, two pairs of similarly colored eyes resting on him - one, concerned, one overly and intently watchful.

"Are you sure it wasn't the food?" the brunet's mother asked again.

L looked up at her, trying not to see Raito too clearly out of the corner of his eye, and assured her that dinner had been delicious and entirely not at fault. He added that it was probably stress-related and was nothing to worry about.

She smiled at him, and he could see the echo of resemblance it bore to her son's, though it was a thousand times more benign. "You're too sweet, dear." She watched him consideringly as Raito helped him too his feet. "Don't let my boy take advantage of that, he is a bit of a spoiled thing."

_Again with the eerily intuitive statements,_ L thought with a chill.

"Mother, in your eyes, I've never grown past the age of 7."

She hummed in disagreement but didn't bother to address that statement. L wondered if that would count as a win on her end, that she didn't feel the need to refute such a counter-statement and let it lie there. The slight scowl on the brunet's arrogantly beautiful face seemed to confirm it.

It was actually kind of amazing to see Raito interacting in this sort of way, that when in his family home, he could actually seem like a normal person, instead of the untouchable and flawless being L had come to know. Raito didn't always have everything under his control... it was just an artfully constructed mirage.

They followed Sachiko down the hall, a few paces behind.

"Whatever thought is circulating in that head of yours, Lawliet, I can assure you it is not accurate."

"I don't know, I think it may be." And what a relief. Having evidence of normalcy, any little scrap of it at all, calmed some of the frantic fluttering that kept shooting off in his chest. Maybe this family visit was more valuable than he'd originally surmised. If he could keep in mind that Raito was merely human, like he was, and not some archangel of debauchery, it would serve to keep him more grounded and less likely to flounder helplessly in the brunet's presence.

Raito caught his hand and turned L to face him. "Do you, now?" he said in a honeyed tone, gazing at him with bared eyes.

L held his stare, reminding himself of what he'd discovered. Raito was not invincible. He was not undeniable. He was just like anyone else. Well, not like just anyone... but certainly no more than an equal. _An equal,_ he told himself staunchly.

Oh, but then why did he feel uncertainty licking at the edges of that surety, crumbling the edges away in rapidly advancing waves? What quality was it in those brandy-colored eyes that eroded his confidence as soon as he'd gained it, telling him that no matter what he saw, _this_ was still the reality of things between them? What was it about them that caught his breath in his throat and sped his heart to a breakneck pace?

"It occurs to me that you may have second thoughts once we leave here."

L shook his head wordlessly, damning himself for losing his nerve this quickly. But where was that elusive evidence of humanity he'd just been privy to? How now was it buried so deeply, as if it wasn't there at all?

Raito's hand around his wrist was like a shackle, so firm, and yet the fingers were a loose bond. Loose, but effective.

"If it would ease your mind, we could go to your place instead of mine," Raito said, somehow guessing at L's reluctance. "Though," he continued, drawing closer, "I can't guarantee someone won't hear you cry out."

L's face burned and he turned away. "You certainly have a high opinion of yourself," he muttered faintly.

"Not without reason," the brunet countered silkily, catching his chin and forcing their eyes to meet in a clash of wills and anticipation. L fought the hold and cursed mentally as that peculiar, captivating smile spread across Raito's sensual lips, and that horrid fluttering sensation started up in his stomach again. "And I warn you, Lawliet, I fully intend to hear every sound your voice is capable of. It's up to you whether you mind an audience."

The audacity. Every word that dripped from his mouth was coated so thickly with unabashed lust and seductive confidence that it should have been laughable. But it wasn't. Somehow it was just anything _but_ laughable, and pulled from him every feeling he'd been trying to avoid or deny and making him feel guilty over it. Dirty.

A gentle kiss upon his lips sealed in those feelings, intensifying them and drawing them out. "Be a good boy and play sick for Mother and Father," Raito whispered in darkly amused tones.

_Lie to save face,_ the brunet was nearly saying. _Lie, and hate it, and thank me for the lie I crafted just for you._

L was not as skilled with acting, and the fear of being seen through was a valid one, so he did resent Raito for putting him in such a position. But worse was knowing that he was being puppeted, and going along with it.

How much of it had to do with his intoxicated system? Was it the liberal application of wine he could fault for the way things were going, his lack of control and his weak defenses against the brunet on all accounts? Could he fault alcohol for the sad state of his mind? Could he?

Would that be too obvious a scapegoat, when he wasn't sure that was the root of the problem anyway? But Raito seemed to harbor a fondness for plying him with alcohol before playing with his strings. Did intoxication make him more predictable and easier to control?

"Oh, there you are, dears," Raito's mother called out from the kitchen as she heard her husband inquire as to how L was feeling. "If you'd like, I can send you home with some bread pudding - I made it the other night."

"All right," Raito called back, though L would have declined any additional food. He loved bread pudding, but his stomach was tied in so many knots, he was becoming quite confident that he might never eat again. "I think you'll like it," Raito said casually, a normal-person smile on his face as he spoke quietly. L wondered if it was for the benefit of his father who was watching them right now and the mother that may poke her head out of the kitchen at any moment. It was distinctly unnerving if he thought of it that way, but why else would he display such sudden changes in behavior? It couldn't possibly be because he knew he was granting L a reprieve from his dark intensity...

L was playing his part, arms tucked up against his chest as if warding off chills, and his posture a touch sloppy. He noted Raito's father's eyes drift to Raito's arm which was draped loosely around L's back and the hand that rested on his hip. He did not revert to the Look, but there was a bit of discomfort in his eyes.

"I'll be right back," Raito said, tapping L's hip lightly before vanishing into the kitchen.

"L," Soichiro said, calling him back. L took a moment to focus on seeming at ease by scrunching up his face in woe-begotten torment, then letting it smooth out again before turning around.

"Yes?"

The older man insisted he have a seat, and sipped from his glass of wine for a few minutes (letting L squirm) before speaking further. "Tell me, have you known my son long?"

"No, sir, not long." L hadn't meant to revert back to the ever formal 'sir', but this time Soichiro did not correct him. It seemed that this was the sort of serious questioning that befitted a Police Chief and not an amiable father figure. L figured he'd chosen the address by instinct.

"L, you seem like a nice young man. Bright, if a little quiet."

L nodded slowly, not really sure what response was required.

"But I must admit, it seems odd to me that you were unaware of my son's age or birthday, yet you have, according to him, already consented to... deeper relations with him. Being the bright young man that you are, do you see it as an acceptable course of action with someone you hardly know?"

L unobtrusively chewed the inside of his lip. If he wasn't mistaken, he was currently on the receiving end of a parental relationship talk. But how strange to be advised by the other person's parent, and they calling their own child a stranger. "I'm not really sure what to say," L said when nothing better came to mind. "It was not exactly a planned happening..."

The Police Chief leaned back in his chair. "That doesn't surprise me. My son can be quite the charismatic fellow when he wants to be. Tell me, where did you meet him?"

Oh, no. Honesty or dishonesty? He had no idea if he should disclose the details of their meeting. _Raito, come back out here, please, before I screw something up!_ That was a novel idea, though, wasn't it? That he perceived the two of them as having something that could be screwed up? Didn't that only mean that in some way he wanted this strange and nerve-wracking interaction that they shared?

"Ah... Well..." L fought off the urge to fidget and the overwhelming urge to begin chewing on his thumb. Raito showed no signs of returning. "It was in a bar we both happen to live by--"

Raito's father interrupted him. "So, you have been to his home?"

"Yes, he has, Father, and we'll be going there shortly," Raito responded, laying hands upon L's shoulders and squeezing them. Whether it was to be comforting, a device by which to allow him to quit answering, or a sign that he had already said too much, L didn't know.

Soichiro's eyes narrowed, though it was barely perceptible. "I wasn't finished speaking to your friend."

"I apologize for cutting it short, but we really must be going."

L couldn't see the brunet's face, but his tone had a fine edge under the pleasantry. He did not sound sorry in the least. L shrunk into his chair as the father's face tightened, only a little relieved that the expression was aimed at the person behind him. What was this hidden strife between the two?

"Raito, I will not be undermined in my own house," he warned.

Ok, and now L wanted to hide. Tension was rising and he could feel it as well in the brunet's hands upon him.

"Of course not, Father, that would be the furthest from my intent."

Overly polite... It seemed that was Raito's way of baiting his father, for it really couldn't be said that he was being disrespectful. Tone could be argued against quite easily.

"If that's true, why don't you say goodbye to your mother before you go?"

"Oh, but I already have. All that was left was collecting your new friend."

"Sachiko," Raito's father called out.

"Yes, dear?" she called back.

"Would you mind sending Raito off with some leftovers? It seems he neglected to consider any."

"Oh, of course. Raito, come here a moment and show me what you'd like."

The whole of this conversation, aside from Soichiro's part, was hidden from view, but L was almost certain he heard Raito emit a sub-vocal growl before releasing him and stalking back into the kitchen.

His son having been cleanly disposed of, for the time being anyway, Soichiro settled his sights back upon L. L shifted in his seat, toes curling anxiously in the secrecy of his shoes.

"I'm telling you this because I like you, L. Be careful with him. He does not always make the best decisions and can fall in with the wrong crowds. I would hate to see you fall into the same ways, or suffer for his whims."

Again, L nodded, quite at a loss for what he could possibly say.

Soichiro smiled grimly and stood. "Well, it was good meeting you." He offered a hand, which L rose to shake. It seemed an abrupt ending to the continued conversation but then L realized he felt a murderous glare manifesting behind him. Raito must have finished the business with the leftovers in record time.

"Well then," Sachiko said brightly, "we really must do this again."

L peeked up at the mother and son, and noted that Raito's face was a cordial mask, not letting slip any of his previous feelings. He even smiled at his mother and gave her a one-armed hug while balancing a bag of Tupperware containers in the other.

They all gradually moved towards the front door, Sachiko taking L's hand and telling him it was lovely to meet him.

The undercurrent between Raito and his father had not diminished. It was covered up behind fake faces, but still remained, roiling under the surface. It was a palpable thing. L was certain that Raito's mother had to have noticed it, but she acted as if she were unaware.

The first thing Raito did when they opened the front door was to get a cigarette into his hands and light it up. L could see this now as a dig at his father, who apparently disapproved of such behavior. Oh, and it worked - it set a small muscle to jumping in his jaw.

"Give me a hug, Raito," Sachiko said, stepping out on the stoop to receive it. In a quiet voice that L could barely catch, she said, "Don't antagonize your father, honey. Mind his blood pressure."

"Mind his drinking," he whispered back in subtle challenge before stepping away.

"Don't blame me if you get cancer," Soichiro said gruffly.

Raito took a long pull off of his cigarette, closing his eyes as if savoring it extraordinarily before exhaling. "If that happens, I'm sure my health coverage will take care of it quite splendidly, but thank you for your concern."

The Police Chief grunted and stopped just short of stomping back into the house. It was somewhat more dignified as exits went, but no less filled with aggravation.

Sachiko smacked Raito in the shoulder.

"Goodnight, dear," she said to L, then followed her husband inside.

When the door clicked shut, Raito took another drag off of his cigarette and unleashed the smoke in a steady stream up towards the starry sky. "I do believe I was just snubbed by my own mother," he said dryly. Face still upturned, he rolled his eyes down to survey L. "You look to be in one piece. Didn't I tell you that you would be fine?" The slight night breeze was rifling through the brunet's hair in an annoyingly appealing way.

"If general lack of dismemberment constitutes being fine, I suppose you are right."

"Here, hold these." Raito pushed the bag of Tupperware into L's hands and started towards the car.

"You could say _please_, I wouldn't mind."

"I suppose I wouldn't mind letting you walk back," Raito tossed back, as he opened the driver side door.

L felt his mouth twist in a frown at the brunet's brusque manner. He stopped in front of the car. "Fine by me," he said coolly.

Raito locked eyes with him from the driver's seat. The silence may have been due to him trying and discarding several possible replies before saying, "Get in," with a sigh.

L leveled him with a deadpan look. "Are you sure? I rather enjoyed the idea of walking."

Raito heaved another sigh and swung himself out of the car seat, walking around the still-open door, and taking the burden of leftovers out of L's hands. "Things didn't go exactly as I'd expected. I'm sorry."

That was an interesting way of apologizing without really taking ownership. L crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows.

"It's at least a 50 minute walk to my place, longer to yours," Raito added as if by showing L he was being foolish was the best way to be forgiven without actually apologizing properly.

They stared at each other over the hood of the car. L with an even less forgiving look, and Raito with narrowing eyes.

"You can be quite difficult when you want to be," the brunet observed. "It seems you may rival the stubbornness I am said to possess." He put the leftovers on the hood, stretched with his entire body, like a cat, and sat down. "Should we camp out here then? I don't think they'll mind. They seem to like you to an obnoxious degree."

L considered heading out on foot, but he wasn't really in the mood for it, or making his point to such a degree. He sat down on the other side of the hood. "Well, that's an improvement over your father's initial reaction which was, I believe, to gut me."

"Ah," Raito sighed and lay back on the windshield. "He means well, I suppose."

The nearly golden coloring the brunet typically possessed was sapped away by the night and replaced with the cool blue tones and contrast of the moonlight. His eyes looked black as he stared up at L with an aura of unhurried grace. Something about him looked intolerably inviting as he lay there, his skin like pale marble, as perfect as the shape of his aristocratic features, as compelling as the darker hue of his full lips.

"Don't be angry with me, Lawliet."

"..." L realized he wasn't so much anymore. Something about the atmosphere and the change in his companion made it hard to be.

"Come here?" Raito asked softly.

They regarded each other for a few moments, but finally L relented and shifted over a few feet, right next to the brunet who was still watching him with luminous, moonshot eyes. He didn't resist the gentle pull on the front of his shirt that guided him down to Raito's waiting lips.

He shivered slightly as the wind picked up and played with the back of his hair, and he kissed the brunet back with the tentative technique of one not used to being given the lead. Not being cornered in his own mouth, he was free to explore the brunet's. Smooth, silken heat welcomed him in with subtle pressure and the gentle caresses of a skilled tongue.

Warmth pooled in his groin as Raito grew slightly more bold, fractionally more assertive, then became passive again in turns. It was intoxicating in a way with which he was unfamiliar, slowly melting him down, almost without him noticing. It was so soft and warm against the slight chill in the night air. It felt kind of right when Raito's cool hand traced up the bare skin of his stomach, eliciting a hushed noise from the back of his throat. It was warming rapidly against his body heat, and making his muscles jump underneath it with small eddies of deepening pleasure.

"Lawliet," Raito said in a husky voice that tingled through him, "Let me drive you back?" He paused to recapture L's mouth more insistently before continuing. "I'm sorry you had to kneel on the bathroom floor... I have a large bath at my place, you're welcome to use it while I find some clean clothes for you to borrow."

L nodded. How could he not, when Raito kept hooking him in so expertly? He wondered if the brunet really intended for him to use a large bathtub by himself, or if he might be thinking of sharing it.

The thought of continuing this slow exploration of each other amid slick, scented bubbles, with nothing but water barring the meeting of their skin... it flushed desire through him so thoroughly that it shocked him, and left his body aching. He should be ashamed at wanting to consummate this attraction yet again, at wanting to feel the brunet in his arms and between his thighs, ashamed at the vivid images flashing before his eyes, and the way that they affected him.

"Lawliet, don't look at me like that." Raito's voice had dropped even lower than before, and was more raw than L had ever heard it.

L blinked rapidly, not realizing he had been staring into those eyes as his thoughts went out of control. "Sorry, I--"

Raito silenced him by putting to fingertips against his lips, his eyes swimming with lust. "No, don't speak, either." Raito's fingers trailed his chin and jaw, traced down his chest, followed by Raito's eyes. "Get in the car, and just wait for me a moment."

* * *

Lawliet, thankfully, did as instructed, which gave Raito some time to calm down the raging heat in his body. He tapped a cigarette out of its pack with shaky hands and tried to focus on anything but his desperate need to ravage that pale body.

He took out his lighter, the one the dark-haired insomniac had returned to him so early this morning, and lit the slender white stick.

_He must have been unaware of how freely his thoughts showed on his face._

Lawliet did not strike him as the type to naturally wield seduction, but he certainly had - pulling him in with every minute shift of that increasingly wanton expression. And the immediate apology, in a tone too swollen with desire for him to bear hearing any more of it...

_God, everything about you..._

Everything about the reclusive genius set his blood afire and made this insatiable lust rear its head. He'd tasted Lawliet in full, felt the scorching embrace of him as he was enveloped in that tight body... less than a day had passed before he'd needed more.

He couldn't help what had happened in the bathroom tonight. It had been unplanned, just like now.

He loved to tease and goad the other man, to pull reluctant consent from him, but it was when he stopped fighting and opened up... his passion was enough to pull Raito under, thoroughly and completely.

Raito glanced down at his cigarette and realized that it was burned down nearly a third of the way, and he had yet take a single puff. He flicked the ridiculously long section of ash off of it and brought it to his lips.

He only had a few minutes to calm this desire to a manageable level. It would be best if he did not try to have his way with Lawliet in the front seat of his car, right in front of his parent's house. Really, it would.

Best to think of something that was the antithesis to sex. The direct polar opposite....

Like Misa.

He took a moment to construct a mental image of her, blonde hair, too blue eyes, makeup, strange clothing, her insistent, sing-song voice. It was harder to accomplish than it sounded, her hair kept shortening and turning black and her eyes would darken into an enigmatic gaze rimmed with kohl-like sleepless circles. He didn't lose it past that, but figured the exercise was losing its purpose and abandoned it.

Why had he never felt this intensely infatuated with anyone else?

And why did the thought of Lawliet slipping through his fingers make him want to claw at the walls, and do ridiculous things like follow him home, just in case he never turned up in the usual places again?

He'd never done anything like that before. It was always other people hanging off of his every word and following him around. Lawliet was not entirely immune, but it felt like a great accomplishment to hold _his_ attention, and Raito certainly ceded more ground to keep him engaged.

Lawliet was sometimes like a wild animal - easily spooked. He'd taken a chance in bringing him here, but had counted on a family environment to make him seem more 'normal' than his misstep with the coasters had made him out to be. And in some ways it was successful, in other ways... not as much.

His eyes narrowed as he wondered once more what his father had been telling Lawliet in his absence, and it galled him that he had been forced back into the kitchen to allow even more words to be spoken. His parents were supposed to stay in their role and do what he needed of them, not sabotage what he had been working towards!

Maybe he should have told his father that he knew Lawliet from work, at least then his father would not be picking favorites and trying to warn his quarry away from him, as he must have been doing. Still, the glare of hatred his father had been honing throughout dinner would have been hard for anyone to endure, let alone someone like Lawliet who was no social cynosure. It would have been cruel to make him endure that further than he already had.

Raito lit up one more cigarette and pulled out the fancy business card he now carried in his pocket.

He took a long pull off of the cigarette, gathering smoke into his lungs and holding it there as he thumbed over the tactile, glossy ink. The card itself was rather simple, but of a fine quality cotton blend paper stock. Expensive. Raito released the smoke and wondered once more if the diminutive amount of information on the card was a sign of humility or conceit. He was inclined to think the latter, based on his own, personal impressions. It was just a single initial on the card, and a number.

He flipped the card over, smiling at the penciled in information he'd defiled the back of the card with.

_A._ wasn't the most informative person he'd ever had in his hire, but he certainly did know the information Raito was looking for. He also seemed to know Lawliet personally, which Raito found to be of great interest indeed.

* * *

TBC

**A/N: **Next chap, next week :)

Thank you for reviewing!


	8. Lair

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 8

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N:** Wow, I am writing a lot of this in one sitting! (dies)

(*ETA* 5-7-11 fixed some formatting)

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 8: (Lair)

L took the time Raito was using to smoke to get a handle on his desperate physical state.

When Raito lit a second cigarette, he was relieved at the extra time that would give him, though he was starting to wonder if the 's father had had a point when he mentioned cancer.

Not that it was any of his business what Raito did with his body...

L closed his eyes, leaned back in the seat, and tried to think of things that were as unsexy as possible. In his mind, he reconstructed his computer desk and took it back apart again, down to the smallest pieces. He moved on to brief musings about his current cases, but found his concentration was not up to it. He thought about Aiber, and as a result, felt mildly pissed off, but it didn't really distract him from Raito, whom he could see so easily through the windshield.

He didn't even need to open his eyes to do it. The image was burned there in his mind.

It occurred to him, guiltily, that he was pretty much planning not to return home tonight, and he had yet to inform Watari. Premeditated intimacy... was that more or less frowned upon than not premeditated? Was it more or less a sign of moral corruption?

Not that he subscribed to the standard moral fare, but a lot had happened in the last several days. First, he had been seduced by a near stranger, and had actually had sex with him. Second, preceding this event, he'd never thought to consider what gender he might be attracted to and it was a little perplexing to have skipped completely over the opposite gender without so much as a kiss to test the waters. Third, he had some serious reservations about the sort of person Raito actually was, and the truly alarming part about it was that he couldn't remain properly cautious.

Raito scared him a little at times, and L couldn't even keep that in mind when the brunet was touching him. It was like someone or something else took complete control over his body and his power to affect anything grew more diminished with each passing moment.

He was half afraid he would feel like this with anyone who got close, and half afraid that it was only the brunet that made him feel this way.

L pulled his phone out of his pocket to send a text email to Watari. His hands were trembling with the effort of maintaining motor control in the face of the nervousness that was coming to the fore as his body began, finally, to cool down.

_I just want you to know that I am about to engage in a night of premeditated sex with someone I hardly know, and that it may or may not involve a bathtub._

No.

_I'm going to be out late again tonight, like last night, doing unspeakable things that render my brain functions NULL and I'm not sure when I might recover enough to come home._

No, no.

It was harder to compose a message than he thought, with these awful snippets of truth typing themselves out in his head.

Finally, he settled on the following:

_I might be out late. L_

He sent it off and looked up as the car door opened. Raito looked through the opening, and asked if L could hang on to the containers of leftover food. L noticed the brunet's eyes focus on his cell and narrow slightly before L tucked it out of sight. By the time he took the food from Raito, that strangely intense look had been wiped clean.

L wondered if it was still there, beneath the smooth features of complacency that had replaced it. Raito was silent as he backed the car out of the driveway, then pulled out onto the road. And, if L wasn't imagining it, an uncomfortable air of disapproval was hanging thick within the car. He jumped as the automatic locks suddenly engaged with a lurching thunk.

"Something on your mind?" L ventured, disliking the unpredictable moodiness the brunet seemed prone to. It wasn't like he assumed that he was the cause of it, but Raito had a way of making him feel like he'd done something wrong.

"No."

L risked a glance at him, but his face indicated nothing new. But now L had the urge to be out of this car after all and it was amplified greatly by the knowledge that he was locked in. It made the space a little claustrophobic, actually.

"Nothing at all?" he tried again.

"Nothing," was Raito's short reply.

L tapped on his phone through his jeans as he kept the silence. It was sort of a relief when the phone buzzed against his fingertips, giving him something to do. He pulled out the glossy red phone and pressed a few buttons so he could read the message that came through. It was Watari answering back. He expressed the need to know where exactly L might be, and also conveyed Aiber's apparent frustration at trying to reach him.

"Huh," L said under his breath. He began scrolling through his messages to see if he had missed any earlier. He had. Several, in fact. Three in a row from Aiber, the usual fare, with the added sentiment of disappointment at having been stood up. L somewhat doubted the man had even gone out and waited for him. He was just trying to be a pain in the ass, and as loudly as possible.

The feel of sudden acceleration, and the louder sound of the engine made L look up in a hurry. Their car whisked under the beginnings of a red light, and made a fast lane change around a slower vehicle. Raito looked distinctly annoyed now. He accelerated even more and tucked around a van and behind a coup, then past a dark blue car and out into open road. The speed of it was pressing L back into his seat, and causing his heart to pound frightfully.

"Is there any reason you're driving so fast?" he tried to ask calmly, hoping his query would not incite increasingly reckless behavior.

"You don't like how I drive?" the brunet asked with a challenging undertone, staring straight ahead.

L gripped the handle on the side of the door while nearly dropping his phone while another high-speed maneuver was executed. He took a shallow breath and focused on the word _non-confrontational _instead of the growing surety that they were going to crash into something any second. "I wouldn't say that... but you seemed a little more relaxed on the drive over?"

"Oh, did I?"

The statement was _laissez-faire_, but again, Raito's tone seemed a little too sharp for it to be taken that way.

"A bit," L said through clenched teeth as he watched the position of the speedometer spiking up. He supposed it was lucky they were on a stretch of highway. He didn't think his nerves could take it if there were stop signs involved, and the running of said stop signs.

L decided to try and respond to a few of his messages with one hand while holding onto the car door for dear life. Maybe a distraction would get him through this.

* * *

Light was irritated. Extremely so.

It would even be more accurate to say that he was jealous.

And that was what made him angry. He didn't _get_ jealous. But watching Lawliet on his phone, thumbing through countless messages - not to mention the one he'd spent so long mulling over before they'd left his parent's driveway - was doing just that.

While he had been battling with himself, actually having difficulty reining in his desires, Lawliet was calmly communicating with other people on his cell phone. _Not only that, he'd looked me in the eye and tucked it away almost guiltily. Who had he been talking to?_

Who really had the upper hand here?

Was it Lawliet, who had pulled that little red and black phone out again when he thought Raito wasn't looking? Or was it Raito, who could instill a bit of uneasiness in his passenger through driving more aggressively than usual?

He would have said it was himself, but then he saw Lawliet doggedly _typing_ on the damn thing with one hand while gripping the car door with the other.

It was soon time to exit the highway, and Raito used the change in roads to affect a change in his strategy. Lawliet was too determined to be intimidated so simply. He didn't like to lose.

There was also the fact that he was in Raito's car, _en route_ to Raito's home and, in a way, was totally at Raito's mercy.

Raito took a silent, deep breath and forced himself to clear his head. There was no need for jealousy. He was fairly certain that he was the first person who had ever gotten this close to the dark-haired intellectual, the first to have had sex with him, and the first to engage him on such a level. Jealousy was unfounded. Even if others wanted to compete for such a position, they hadn't been successful before his presence, so they should be even less so now.

Still, he was jealous. What about people who had yet to try and ensnare the unsuspecting insomniac? And how many might there be?

But he did not have to stay in the dark.

He merely had to gain access to _dear_ Lawliet's phone.

It would be an easy feat if things progressed as he'd originally planned. Lawliet had been quite blissfully unconscious when they'd finished the other night. But in order to ensure that scenario, he had to undo the damage he'd done. Dark eyes were flicking his way warily, as if uncertain of what he might do next.

_That which had been broken must now be regained._

He had to secure his companion's trust, and before the car stopped.

"I don't get along with my father," he tossed out, dropping the topic like a rock in a still pool.

"I gathered that."

"The more I was thinking of things, the more it was bothering me. I'm sorry if I was driving like a bit of a lunatic. It was inconsiderate." Raito was pleased to see that as soon as they began talking, Lawliet made his cell phone disappear.

"You could have just said so instead of insisting nothing was wrong."

"I haven't made a habit of discussing my personal problems with anyone."

Raito found that renewed communication was washing away the acrid taste of his previous agitation. It was also pulling his attention, with renewed interest, back to the exposed, vulnerable areas of Lawliet's pale throat and wrists. He liked that the other man was taking steps to appease him and understand him, despite that cautious approach. It was a shame this conversation was a farce.

After a long pause, his companion said sullenly, under his breath, "Well, perhaps you should try it, if it keeps you from getting yourself into a fiery wreck."

"Are you expressing concern for me, Lawliet?" Raito asked with a smile. Things were playing back into his hands, he noted with satisfaction. His pet insomniac glanced up with startled, beautifully wide eyes, denial on his tongue, though he weighed his words with care.

"You aren't the only one you put at risk."

Raito let him have that little evasion without contest. He was certain from his passenger's first reaction, that he did indeed care to some extent. Raito felt himself relax even more; knowing he had something to work with was a weight off of his mind. Now he only had to secure those elusive sentiments, elevate them exponentially, and he could guarantee his hold on Lawliet. But, first things first...

"Hmm. You know, I'm not sure I've ever apologized so profusely in one night."

"Does that mean you were intending to do so again?"

Raito's lips twitched up in amusement. "I was entertaining the idea. But it was starting to feel out of character."

"Do you usually have so much to apologize for?"

Raito shrugged. Perhaps he did, but it was not usually required of him. Or was it more that he didn't often feel the necessity? The expressing of true regret, that was indeed a rarity and a far cry from the empty words he offered his father, for instance. Lawliet was dragging sincerity out of him. He probably had no idea.

Home was only a few minutes away now.

"Raito, what was your purpose in bringing me over there tonight?"

Had Lawliet sensed how close they were to their destination? His tone was one of someone tossing out a statement they knew might not end well. Raito looked at him carefully, scrutinizing. The signs of passion had died down and disappeared from his face and body, his breathing was inaudible and even. Now that the moment had passed, was Lawliet getting cold feet? Was he thinking they might part ways once the car had stopped? _Oh no, my charming little friend, that will most certainly not come to pass._

But how to answer? A bit of truth would be best, but which part?

"I thought that you would be less likely to leave partway through in such a setting."

"Wha-" Lawliet turned in his seat to look at him. "_That_ was the reason?"

"Don't act as if it wasn't a perfectly good one. You were upset with me. The chances of you walking out even if I had managed to bring you out somewhere were rather high."

"Not necessarily," the dark-eyed man said stubbornly, crossing his hands over his chest.

"What about _Guissupo's_? You were dead set against coming, for some reason, then seemed as if you were going to jump up out of your seat at any moment."

Lawliet was looking fixedly out the window.

Raito would guess that he might have been angry, but his posture had slipped into something a little more sloppy, and he was unobtrusively biting at the tip of his thumb. This seemed indicative of deep thought, and retreat.

Raito planned out his next few moves. They could begin here, but there wasn't time. He was already approaching his driveway. He edited and altered his tactic as he parked the car. Lawliet was best taken advantage of when he was off balance or feeling guilty. But pressing him there too quickly would turn out poorly. For the next few minutes, Lawliet would easily be able to just walk home.

Just like the ride in the cab the night before, he had to distract his companion carefully lest he take flight.

"Are you going to come in, or are you going walk away, as seems to be your habit?"

"My-?" Lawliet exclaimed, turning to face him. His expression battled between guilt, annoyance, and that wariness. "If we want to get specific, I don't do so without reason."

Raito scoffed and opened his door.

Like clockwork, as he got out, he could hear Lawliet make a sound of irritation and thrust his own door open.

Raito could feel his heart beat a little more quickly as the thrill of animating the dark-haired man according to his will settled over him. He could easily lose that control in the next moment, but for now, Lawliet was unwittingly playing along.

"What reasons?" Raito said dismissively as he walked up to the door, noting with amusement that his companion had not forgotten the leftovers in the car. They were clutched in his pale hands, looking like they might just have an upcoming flight path towards his head.

"Well, for instance-"

"Wait, hold that thought," Raito said, slipping his phone out of his jacket's pocket. "Hello?" he said, opening the door and walking inside. "Ok, Just a minute." He kept moving briskly towards the hall but glanced back at Lawliet. "Shut the door, would you? And put those in the fridge? Thanks."

Raito curbed a smirk as he turned back around. Oh, his quarry's face was priceless. "Yeah, I'm here," Raito said into the phone. However, that look would no doubt exceed priceless if Lawliet were to find out he was faking the call - which he wouldn't.

* * *

L closed the door behind him and stalked down the short hall to the kitchen on the left.

He hated being cut off like that. It was so irritating, especially when you couldn't recall exactly what it was you were going to say in the first place. Sure, the gist of it was the same, but the composition always differed.

The refrigerator was roomy enough to take the bag of stacked Tupperware without requiring rearrangement, so L shoved it in like a building block and shut the door.

_Why am I__** here **__again?_

He looked out over the living room, thinking on his first impression of the place with its floor to ceiling bookshelf on the far end, its dark leather couch, light wood floors, and the airy, open feel that the large windows on either side gave it.

On first glance, he'd instantly liked it and felt moved to explore further. And so he had, walking from the kitchen back into the living room, just as he was doing now, until he'd come to the couch-side table and looked down. For a moment, he expected to see what he had then - a pile of cardboard coasters covered in dark black inky scribblings. But there was nothing but dark, bare wood and the lamp that sat upon it.

He frowned, debated briefly, and opened the table's drawer to see if they lurked inside.

Nothing.

Nothing but a few, finely crafted pens, some paperwork, and a leather-bound personal planner.

He slid the door shut, wondering if the brunet had thrown them out.

"Looking for something?" Raito asked, emerging from the hallway that led to the bedroom.

L jumped, having been caught in the act._ No use denying it now._ "Yes. The coasters. What did you do with them?"

Raito looked mildly surprised. "They upset you, so I got rid of them."

L felt somewhat relieved, but also a little disappointed. He also felt the urge to smack himself for said disappointment. Wouldn't any normal person have discarded the controversial item in a situation like this? It was a _good_ thing if they'd been thrown away. It meant Raito might not be as maladjusted as he'd previously seemed, didn't it?

L looked at the object of his thoughts who was currently watching him.

"You were saying earlier?" Raito prompted.

"Ah. Well." _Should I even bother saying it now? The coasters are no longer an issue, since they're gone. Still, it annoyed me that he acted as if I was only acting on whim when I sought to get away from him._ "I was saying that there were actual _reasons_ behind my behavior."

"Mmhmm." L noticed that Raito was no longer wearing his jacket, just the soft, cream colored shirt that had been under it. It hugged his frame and arms as if it were tailored just for him and its paleness accentuated the darker color of his tanned skin.

L mentally slapped himself for getting distracted. "For instance," he repeated doggedly, "I hadn't planned to leave without a word last time, but finding those coasters..." Should he say what he'd really thought at that time? That he'd thought Raito might be a deranged stalker or some such thing? Was it necessary?

"Anyone would have been troubled at such a find," Raito said easily, as he stepped closer. "Anyone would have worried about what sort of person I was after seeing that."

L frowned a little. "I wasn't _'worried'_..." Had he made too big a deal out of it? Raito's placating, understanding tone made him feel as if he were being humored, that they were going to gracefully sidestep his massive paranoia and pretend it was a perfectly normal thing.

Raito reached out and touched the side of L's arm briefly, his eyes looking a bit disappointed and solemn. "I can understand your reaction, Lawliet, but why did you intend to have things end right there?"

L bit the inside of his lip. He'd never heard his name used with such entreaty, and it pulled at things in his chest. Had he really been this wrong? "It was... just the reaction I had. It was so unexpected..." It was hard to give excuses to those dark, burnished-gold eyes as they regarded him with quiet reserve. They were crushing him with their soulful look and causing him to second-guess himself.

Raito caught L's hand in a gentle clasp of fingertips and brought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss across his knuckles. "I have to take care of something for work... it may take a little while, but in the meantime you are welcome to the bath I promised."

L chewed on his lip. He'd been reconsidering staying. He was just going to give the brunet a piece of his mind before walking home, but suddenly the climate had changed once again.

"Will you wait for me, Lawliet? At least that long?"

What would a bath hurt while he waited? It was work, so it wasn't as if Raito would be free to join him in there, unannounced. Of course, he could always take a look at the book that Raito had retrieved from his parent's house instead, but L had quite lost track of it's location. Oh, really... mainly he just didn't want to have to say no to the look on the brunet's face. "Okay," he said reluctantly.

Raito smiled at him and it was dazzling.

The brunet then stole a quick kiss, as if L might disallow it, which tingled lingeringly upon L's lips long after if was over. "I'll start the water running and find you something to wear," he said.

L nodded, and sank onto the couch, still dazed by the power of the brunet's smile and the warm, fluttery feeling in his stomach that the kiss had inspired.

_Was this side always a part of him too? This nearly sweet, sensitive side? _Every time he thought he had Raito figured out, he was privy to something new and unexpected. Brusque, arrogant, demanding, these were the things he had counted as Raito's own personal, patented adjectives. (_Don't forget sensual)_ a voice in the back of his head reminded him needlessly. _Shut up_, he told it, putting his face in his hands. Was this really all right?

So if he stayed until after a bath, and after Raito dealt with work things, what then?

What was he expecting?

Did he envision them talking, continuing to hash out these miscommunications and misconceptions between them, and sharing? Getting to know each other? Was that naive?

Or was he secretly hoping that Raito might kiss him again in that overwhelmingly passionate way he had, and that one thing might lead to another?

L brushed his fingers over his lips.

_I'm just trying to be prepared,_ he told himself. _I like knowing what to expect._

L got to his feet before he continued his inner discourse in any more self-analyzing detail.

The hallway off of the living room was longer than he thought. Raito's room was on the right, the light burning a warmly yellowed rectangle out upon the hallway's wooden floor. He peeked inside. The brunet was sitting on his bed, Indian-style, pen in hand, a mass of papers arrayed around him and a cell phone pressed to his ear. He looked up as he spoke and waved L down the hall to the bathroom and continued in a rather spirited manner as the person on the other end apparently disagreed with him on the location and date of something.

_Political Lobbyist... _

He still didn't know how Raito managed to make as much money as he appeared to with such a job. Unless someone had taken him under their wing and was grooming him for a much higher position? Or were bribes playing a large factor in this political scene? There had to be something... Perhaps something that was enough to cause such bitterness in Raito's father?

Of course, personal prejudice did not need to be founded upon anything concrete; the police chief might merely be biased.

L came to the end of the hall, noting a second door on the right as he passed that was shut and locked. The door before him was not, and behind it he could hear running water. It was ajar, spilling dimmed, flickering light into the hallway. He pushed it open.

He blinked.

It had to be one of the more extravagant bathrooms he'd seen, almost as wide as the living room itself, done up in a Westernized style with rich shades of brown, cinnamon, and cocoa. The tub was indeed large, the surrounding area covered in small, expensive-looking tiles that reflected the spice-inspired shades of the bathroom in their dappled coloring. The flickering light was from the darkly colored pillar candles that stood sentry in the tub's tiled alcove. Deep gold, blackened green, and a reddish purple.

_Perhaps he always lights these and thinks nothing of it?_

L nearly looked behind him to see if Raito was intending to share the bath after all, but he could still hear him on the phone, faintly, over the rushing of water.

The room practically hummed with richness and sensuality.

It would be an understatement to say he felt out of place.

L shifted from foot to foot, toying with the idea of turning the dimmed lights all the way up, but was quite reluctant to actually touch anything. In the end he closed the door, and bent to slip off his shoes. He'd never used anyone else's bathing facilities before. It was strange.

He placed his shoes neatly next to the door, and began on the buttons of his shirt. Catching sight of himself in the full, counter to ceiling mirror on his left, the feeling that we was stripping down where someone could see was intensified. It was because the room was so large, probably, that made it feel like getting naked in someone's living room.

The plush throw rug was soft and thick beneath his feet. There was another one like it by the counter cabinets, a circle of off-white on the floor, in front of an ornately carved, dark wood bench. Finishing the last button on his shirt, he shrugged it off and laid it upon the exquisitely patterned fabric of the cushioned seat and began on his pants.

It was perfectly natural to be unused to such lavish surroundings in what he usually considered to be a utilitarian sort of room, wasn't it? Bathrooms should be white tile and glaring lights. Simple, yet functional. This was more like a bedroom, though no bedroom he'd ever had.

He looked like a phantom in the slightly fogging mirror, all long, thin limbs and pale skin, with a shock of ink-black hair and equally dark eyes. He failed to see what it was Raito might find attractive about him, or what the brunet might have been focused on while driving so deeply inside him and murmuring his name.

L watched a pink flush dust his cheeks as his he remembered the delicious weight of the brunet on top of him, the feel of a lean, muscled back beneath his grasping fingers and the pulling, tugging pleasure Raito's touch caused.

What was there to desire about _this_ body?

In comparison, Raito was gifted with near perfection. He was beautiful.

Everything about him was flawless. On the outside, anyway. L shivered, the air feeling cooler against his flushing skin. The tub was about full now. He stepped over to the side of it and turned off the faucet then felt the bubbled water with his hand; it was hot, just shy of too much. Gingerly, he sat on the edge and swung his legs into the foaming heat.

Was he infatuated with the brunet's exterior?

Only his exterior?

L slowly lowered himself into the bath and sank down into the water.

He'd considered that possibility at first, but he'd met other beautiful people before and none of them had gained such a hold on him as this, and within moments of meeting. No, Raito had a special way of getting under his skin and hijacking his thoughts. It was as if he had just pushed his way into L's secluded sphere of personal space and limited human contact and then demanded that he be dealt with. Hadn't it happened that way at the beginning? Stealing his pen and then on the next meeting, forcing L to endure his unsolicited presence at the table, always watching him with faintly amused eyes?

_And what of the interior?_

Raito both intrigued him and repelled him in some ways. He was like a minefield, and the more sensible part of L advised caution or even retreat.

But hadn't Raito become skilled at blocking such behavior? Digging him back out or barring his exits? _That's what it is this time as well, isn't it?_ He'd never meant to leave the house. He'd never meant to see Raito again, nor come back to this place.

He hadn't wanted to revisit the taste of such all-consuming lust.

It was too soon, and he couldn't quite put down the feeling that he was being dragged in over his head.

* * *

Raito stretched and rolled his head from side to side. He'd decided to make real calls after the first fake one, for authenticity's sake, but he wasn't in the mood for dealing with anyone. He was incredibly distracted by the fiercely wary little creature that he had successfully lured home.

Keeping Lawliet on his toes kept _him_ on his toes.

Wooing him and seducing him so carefully was like building a house of cards. Precision, a steady hand, and impeccable control were required.

Raito had pursued him directly and forcibly in the beginning, which had been fine and had worked perfectly until the coaster blunder, but now a more delicate hand was needed. A softer touch...

He'd started to realize it as they had stood off against each other in front of his parent's house. He'd tested it out by enticing Lawliet to come to him, to kiss him instead of merely being kissed. And now again, in his own home, he baited the line and waited, playing to that lovely sense of guilt his dark-eyed guest had displayed as well as his tendency to over-think things.

It would happen, if he was patient.

Certainly, if he behaved himself and limited himself to only _thoughts_ of devouring Lawliet's sweet mouth at any given moment...

Ah, but patience was not always his virtue. Even as he cleared the paperwork from his bed, he was thinking of his guest in the bath, of doing the things to him that had been so plainly written upon his face earlier._ Undisguised wanting... _

Oh, ever since he'd had Lawliet, all he could think of was how to get close enough to have him again. Once was not enough. Twice, a dozen times, he didn't think that it would sate this desire that crawled up through his belly with ragged claws, consuming his mind with lust and the insatiable craving for carnal rites and sobbing breaths.

Raito pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it at the tall laundry basket behind the door, suddenly feeling stifled by the long-sleeved garment. He picked his pack of cigarettes and his lighter up off the dresser. He'd go cool off outside in the night air while he waited, maybe have a smoke if the urge struck him.

He padded out into the living room, reflexively tapping out a cigarette to keep between his lips, before he even got to the sliding glass door that looked out on the enclosed garden.

He stepped outside onto the porch and slid the door shut behind him. He flicked flame from his lighter and lit the end of his cigarette, certain that he had never smoked with such frequency before meeting Lawliet. It was as if he had developed an intense case of oral fixation, one that probably would try to snuff him out with cancer, emphysema, or some other nasty thing. Then again, it hadn't been much more than a week so far, so it wasn't something to be overly concerned about yet.

In any case, the smoke felt good in his lungs, and the breeze felt nice against his bare skin, and Lawliet would not be able to sneak out of the house unnoticed what with the excellent view Raito had of the living room.

* * *

L had a conundrum.

After his bath, a towel had been an easy item to locate but, unfortunately, the fresh clothes the brunet had spoken of were not.

He had no doubt that reappearing in his own clothes would set off a maelstrom of unpleasantness, as he would have completely undone the purpose of cleansing and would have also wasted the brunet's efforts.

He would rather not dispel the calmer incarnation of Raito's mood for the alternative. He also could not stay in here, forever debating his course of action. He had quite thoroughly examined the contents of the bathroom, and had not missed the location of any clothing, nor had he turned up any additional towels.

He rubbed the towel he did have over his hair once more, still amazed after all these years at its ability to retain water.

He then wrapped the towel around his waist, wishing he'd at least had another one to throw over his shoulders so he wouldn't have to appear so... naked.

_Oh, if wishes were fishes._

L spared another forlorn glance at his pile of clothing and set out into the hall.

* * *

TBC

**A/N:** Someone asked me if Lawliet was L's first name in Death Note. Supposedly, his full name is L Lawliet. (L being his first name.) I just made Lawliet his first name in this fic because Raito wanted to get to say it a lot and use it to work his magic. ;) Little did L know how powerful he would find that to be.

((name-fetish anyone?))

**P.S. If at any point in the next few weeks updates are late, that would be because I am in the middle of moving. Just a forewarning. Next chap will be up next week.**


	9. The Sinner In Me

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 9

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N:**Moving = so many boxes! I can hardly walk around in here!

(*ETA* 5-7-11 fixed some formatting)

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 9: (The Sinner In Me)

L half entertained the thought of sneaking out and sparing himself the anxious fluttering in his chest.

_I'm genetically predisposed to avoiding unpredictable situations._

Lack of calculable elements by which to anticipate a likely flow of events was enough to make him feel the pressing urge to remove himself from the whole thing entirely; Yagami Raito was about as predictable as a force of nature.

Lack of appropriate attire, however, went a long way in curbing that response.

L paused near the the door that was neither the bathroom's nor the bedroom's, wondering once more what could possibly lie beyond it. Compulsively, he had tried the handle on his first pass by and had discovered the door to be firmly locked. There was a keyed lock above the door handle that was unique to that door alone - none of the others had it. It was just the sort of thing that was incongruous enough for it to pique his interest. What was Raito hiding in there? Clues to the source of his income? A torture chamber?

Ok, the last one was made in jest. Just a morbid little reminder from the back of his brain to the front that he did not know the brunet well at all. Or even on a surface level, really. Perhaps trying to establish more conversation between them should be his priority? For it did not seem that keeping his distance was going to work on any level; Raito had made that clear when he had showed up in L's house earlier. _You can run, but you cannot hide._

What was it that made Raito so insistent? He seemed so laid back... so in control... Was he so unused to taking no for an answer that such a thing stirred him to action?

_First, my name._

_Then, my number._

_Now, my address._

The amount of confidential information the brunet was skillfully procuring about him was growing. In contrast, L had nothing. True, he also had the brunet's name, number, and address, as well as his parent's address, but... it wasn't the same. All of it had been too freely given. There had been no divulging of closely guarded secrets, no discoveries that had been slipped out from underneath him.

L wanted at the information Raito was being evasive about.

He could count the coasters as one win - the brunet obviously hadn't meant for him to see them. But to go to all the trouble of gaining the entirety of them, then casually 'get rid of them'? Had he really? Couldn't it be plausible that he had retained them after all? Perhaps they were even in the locked room next to him.

L stared at the blank door of the sealed room and touched the painted surface with his fingertips. He wanted in there. Badly.

But how to accomplish it?

Surely the key would not be in an obvious or accessible place... Raito was not likely to open the door while he was here... _Nor would he leave me alone long enough to gain access even if I managed to locate the key. Of course, I do awaken faster than he does..._

He supposed he could try and pick the lock, but something like that was not exactly his forte. He could research it, of course, but that didn't mean he would have skill enough to be successful or not get caught. It also felt like cheating.

_I bet Aiber can pick locks_, he thought dryly.

The sound of the sliding glass door opening made L jump. He started walking again, lest Raito find him loitering next to his vault of secrets. _Well, that solves the question of where he is..._

The light in the bedroom was still on, so he thought at first that the brunet was still working.

L caught sight of a tanned hand on the slider and bared shoulder as Raito stepped back inside, followed by the rest of him which was also equally uncovered to the waist. To be honest, the view was almost more than L could handle. His mouth went dry and he had to consciously drown the thoughts that spawned in his head until he could properly keep his grip on the towel at his waist. It wasn't that he had no self-control. It was the multiple instances of being kissed senseless, and feeling those hands upon his person earlier that were derailing his brain so quickly.

Raito slid the door the rest of the way shut and latched it, his bangs falling into his face as looked down to do so.

_That and the fact that we are now both only partially dressed._

A moment later and dark amber eyes had located him, containing some quality that made L's pulse jump into his throat and butterflies storm through his stomach.

"I wasn't sure what I was supposed to wear," L said uncertainly, feeling the need to explain his lone towel though it was all he'd been provided with.

Raito's gaze panned down the length of his body, slowly, as if caressing every bare inch of it, and back up again on L's slightly coloring face. He smiled. It might have been intended as a reassurance, but it had a decidedly lascivious slant to it that matched the hooded look in the brunet's eyes.

_Talking_, L reminded himself forcibly.

"How thoughtless of me," Raito said, strolling over to him. "I was distracted earlier."

L was distracted _now_. He couldn't quite keep from staring at the casual grace of the brunet as he moved or the beautiful color of his smoothly muscled body.

He held his breath as Raito stopped in front of him.

So close... was Raito going to kiss him? Touch him?

That heated look was there in his eyes, and the bedroom was only a few feet away. The _bed_ was only a few feet away and this time, there were no obstacles such as parents or cars or a ride home to forestall them.

Raito leaned in, not breaking L's gaze as he did so, but returning it boldly. His voice whispered silkily across L's lips. "It's not polite to stare, Lawliet."

L's eyes fluttered closed as yearning shot through him - to feel more than warm breath against his mouth as the brunet's scent sank deep within his lungs and stirred that impulsive desire he was becoming more familiar with. Never mind the sexy, taunting quality to that playful voice.

_(What happened to talking?) _the little voice in the back of his head screeched. _(You totally want him to do what he did last time!)_

_God, yes._ "l wasn't staring any more than you were, Raito."

He felt the feather-light trailing of fingers upon his chest then and insidiously flaring heat where they touched - and even where they did not. "Perhaps we aren't made out for polite society, you and I."

The desire to be touched was crushing L under its thumb as the brunet's voice rolled over him and through him, thick with suggestion.

Raito drifted back from him, a knowing smile on his lips. "But let me not keep you waiting. Surely I have something suitable for you to wear."

L was of a mind to tell him exactly what he'd rather not be left waiting on, and it wasn't clothing, but he just couldn't bring himself to say the words. So he thought them at Raito as soon as the brunet's back was turned. He also had a sneaking suspicion that the other man had purposely chosen that particular phrasing for that _very_ reason. Was he being played with?

Fine then, if Raito was trying to kill him with unresolved sexual tension, he would do his best counteract it.

"Are you finished with work?" he asked as he followed him into the room, deciding that the topic of drudgery was a good mood killer. _Let's see you turn that around._

"Oh, yes," Raito said in a smooth, satisfied tone as he rifled through his closet. "Quite finished." He said it as if L had been asking whether or not they would have the entire night free to act on whatever debased impulses happened to strike them, and that he was quite looking forward to it.

How did the brunet manage to imply so much with so few words and the creative use of inflection?

"Here," Raito said, holding out something for him to wear. His eyes said he was aware of L's little attempt to sabotage him and that he was greatly amused by the failed effort.

The fabric nearly slipped out of L's grasp as he took it - it seemed to be silk or something similar. He felt his eyebrows raise as he discovered the deeply blue fabric was a short, long-sleeved robe. _'Suitable'?_ _Why... this will be even more revealing than the towel and at least that is secure! _

Raito had a glint of challenge in his eye as he smiled serenely back at L. It was if he knew perfectly well what L had been thinking about out-maneuvering him and he was determined to beat down L's attempts at resistance through humility. For every paltry effort L tried to make to avoid being seduced into a helpless puddle on the floor, Raito would be ready and willing to put forth more effort into clouding his mind over with desire. _Are you sure you want to play this game?_ he seemed to say.

"Should I ignore the implications of such diminutive attire?" L asked, his back turned as he contemplated putting the thing on. Silk and arousal were natural born compatriots. Loose, slidey and revealing robes were the bane of anyone attempting not to think sexual thoughts.

"Implications?" Raito asked. Oh, so smoothly spoken. "I often wear such things after bathing." Pause. "Are you feeling shy, Lawliet?" Teasing, provocative. Raito was certainly a master of words.

L decided words were not the tactic to employ against a master tactician. He let his towel drop to the floor, exposing his back and the entire length of his naked body in an act of defiance against the 'shy' accusation, then unhurriedly slipped one arm into the robe and then the other. The sash was all there was to keep it closed - no inner tie was in evidence. Making sure his expression was bland and not smug in the least, he turned around.

To say that Raito's eyes had turned predatory was an understatement.

He stalked L, moving close and dragging a hand down the V of the robe to where it caught at the sash. "Oh, you are a tease, aren't you?" Raito breathed, forcing L back a few steps before his mouth descended on L's with barely checked passion.

L wasn't sure if this meant he'd won, but he was too preoccupied with the heart-stopping sensation of the other man's mouth feeding from his and the gut-wrenching desire that pulsed through him as he was pushed back onto the bed.

_Please_, he thought as heat raced through his body.

The sash of his robe pulled against his waist as it was slowly untied.

Raito spread the cloth apart, following the contour of his chest with a splayed hand, causing L's breath to hitch as fingers and then a thumb brushed over his nipple. But that hand did not limit itself there - it smoothed down his torso as Raito's lips found his neck, tracing his hip with flirting fingers until he could not leave silence unbroken.

"God, you're sexy like that," Raito murmured fiercely against his skin, his mouth following the path that his hand had taken.

L's stomach muscles jumped as lips grazed his belly, and desire clenched in his stomach like a knot.

The brunet's warm, soft mouth drifted lower, tantilizingly closer to his desperation. He willed their progress further, willed anything to bring the pleasure more at hand - to stop killing him with delicate teasing when his body was craving rougher things.

"Raito?" he asked as the other pulled back.

"I can't wait," Raito said huskily. He slid off of the bed, standing to rid himself of his slacks. L stared as the fabric fell, totally entranced by the look of him, the perfection of his tanned, flushing skin, and by the evidence of his desire. That desire that had once before been part of L's body, wringing pleasure from him with every movement.

L was more aware of it this time... the condom, the bottle of lubrication, the anticipation that was riding nervously and anxiously within him.

Raito bore him back down on the bed, kissing him with such intensity that coherence began once more to swim out of L's head.

Coaxing hands ran up his body, down over his thighs, everywhere they could touch but the one place that really needed it, ratcheting his desire steadily higher until he was choking on it. Unable to think.

"Tell me you want this," Raito panted in his ear, the circle of his fingers skimming up L's length in a ruinous first caress.

The sensation was too powerful for L to get words past. He nodded as best as he could, losing focus on anything but the movement of that touch, the repeating of that touch and the _wanting_ that that touch inspired.

"Tell me, Lawliet," Raito said again forcibly, fingers leaving him so hands could part his thighs, spreading him open. "I want to hear you say it."

A slick digit stroked the entrance to his body, teasing the sensitive skin, making him toss his head. "P-Please," he managed.

He gasped as it pushed inside, feeling slightly strange but oh so pleasurable. All he could think about was having the brunet truly inside of him, pushing his body to the limit, hearing the noises that Raito's voice might make in passion.

"Please what, Lawliet?" the brunet asked as he added another finger.

L's face burned. He gasped as the digits moved in and out, brushing things in him that were making his back begin to arch. He didn't know how to ask it. He wanted it more than he could think, and he didn't have the words. Another finger and he couldn't hold back a moan.

"Tell me you want me inside of you."

"I..." Speaking was too difficult, required more thought than he was capable. "Please, Raito..."

"Tell me you need me," the brunet whispered heatedly, pulling his fingers from L. "Or," he added indulgently as L's body shook with desire, "we can stop here?"

"I... need you," L panted obediently past the horror of not continuing, and being left adrift in this battering sea of _wanting_. The words were foreign on his tongue, and as foreign to his ears as the sound of his own voice. They made his stomach burn in shame as he uttered them, and as he was rewarded with a leisurely kiss.

Raito pressed against him, impossibly hard, and so much hotter than the feel of fingers. "Relax," he whispered.

_Like the command could make someone instantly comply..._

But Raito was pushing forward, sliding into him, making a place for himself inside of L while L fought to keep quiet. His body was on fire and as Raito started to slide back out and in again, rubbing over such sensitive areas. The moans began to fall from his mouth and his hips began to arch upwards.

L's arms wrapped around Raito without conscious effort, pulling the younger man's body more tightly to his, receiving his thrusts more deeply.

He couldn't get enough. He moved his hips faster, encouraging the pace, hearing the brunet make sounds of pleasure that speared through him and ignited the lust until it was all that was left of him.

He felt the pressure building, unrelenting as it coiled within his stomach and fanned through him in waves. It clenched his muscles as it began winding tighter, blanketing his thoughts and focusing them on the maddening rocking of hips and the taut, perfect body that lay over his - damp, heated skin kissing his own.

His nails dug into flesh and muscle as it eventually overwhelmed him, pleasure sparking sharply within him and spilling out. It claimed his voice and the harsh cry of it was accompanied by the sound of his own name ringing in his ears.

* * *

Raito woke, fuzzily, some time later. It was something like when you wake before your alarm goes off - as if your brain is so insistent about the need to wake up that it happens even before it needs to. In this way, the back of Raito's brain was insistent on shaking him into consciousness and laying out the thought that there was something he should be doing. Faster than usual for just having woken, he realized that unconsciousness was supposed to take a back seat to the more pressing matter of getting his hands on Lawliet's phone.

He'd fully planned on doing it earlier - just after cleaning the both of them up and waiting for his dark-eyed companion to be safely asleep.

However, this time had been even better than last time, and he soon lost himself in sleep only moments after pretending to do that very thing. He'd felt completely worn out and drained on every level - mindless, utterly spent, and yet unbelievably satisfied.

Possibly even euphoric.

Except now, he was going to be pressing his luck trying to accomplish his task. He didn't know how much time had passed, nor how long Lawliet would remain asleep. This is why he'd meant to do it before, when time was on his side and discovery was less of a reality.

Raito dragged his eyes open in the darkness, successful on the third try, fighting not to give in again to the bliss of sated rest. _This will only take a few minutes_, he told himself, _I can sleep after. _All he wanted to do was check a few things - see who Lawliet had been in contact with earlier. It wasn't unreasonable to want to know who might be offering him competition, and it was certainly fair for him to find out who had been distracting the dark-haired man from him.

Raito turned to look at the man in question and found his own arm laying extended across an empty stretch of bed. Lawliet was not present.

Wakefulness slammed through Raito and he bolted upright. _Again?_

He flung the sheets off of himself and jumped out of bed, anger tumbling through his limbs in jagged shocks as he searched for something to throw on.

_Of all the fucking idiotic..._

He found his black robe, jerking it on and tying it about himself in terse motions.

What had gone wrong? Everything had been perfect! Why had provoked him into leaving this time?

_It figures, _he snarled internally. _I actually __**try **__to keep someone in my bed and that's the last thing they want to do._

_Did I go too far?_

_I couldn't help making him say those things._ Seeing him like that... the thought of making him beg was too insidiously thrilling. It was only rivaled by the rush he'd gotten when Lawliet had actually complied. Raito had watched his face, drinking in every reaction, every expression, loving the absolute control he'd had over him in those moments. _And the sound of his voice...god... _He'd never felt such a gripping compulsion to rip into someone - devour them - and make them cry out as loudly as possible.

Lawliet was a creature unused to passion, and yet Raito was able to make him drown in it. _Pulling him down into it with me so far he has no hope of surfacing, no choice but to cling to me and let me lead him where I will..._

But what good was there in that if Lawliet could slip out of his fingers so quickly, so easily?

_The moment I look away-!_

He was starting to wonder if chaining up the other man was his only recourse after all. Or perhaps he could put a bell around his neck, like a cat, if only to be alerted when the silent one tried to vanish.

Oh, it was infuriating. Frustrating. Last night had been... a turning point of sorts. Words spoken on whim had suddenly manifested into a deeper truth.

_'Tell me you want this.'_

It was obvious that his partner did, but he derived some twisted sort of pleasure in hearing him force out the words.

_'Tell me you need me.'_

Oh, something had happened there. Plying this script from Lawliet's gasping mouth... he perversely wanted to elicit such falsely intimate words, to see if they'd be spoken... and to see what it felt like to pretend that he had the dark-haired intellectual that much within his power...

Why then had he taken it like it was some sort of confession? He knew it was forced - uttered only in the closet world that sex had wrapped around them. Why had he thought something had changed enough to keep Lawliet in place?

_I'll kill him. I can't stand that he can so easily get up and away from me. I'll-_

Raito stopped his mental tirade short. He'd been stalking angrily into the living room, fixated on the landline in the kitchen, from which he was going to make a call. Lawliet would know his cell number and would not necessarily pick up if he used it to make the call. He was going to get the wretched insomniac to speak to him, or he would be making a visit over to his house again shortly to lay this out straight.

Raito's feet stopped short, his tumultuous thoughts stopped short, and he stared at the owlish black eyes that blinked back at him. Lawliet was sitting on his couch, knees drawn partway up to his chest with a book balancing atop them. He was wearing a pair of Raito's dark plaid, flannel pants which were a bit too large on his thinner frame.

"You..." Raito trailed, blinking as if he were seeing things.

"Is something wrong, Raito?" L asked, peering at him skittishly, book forgotten.

"Ah... no, nothing."

Foolish was not even the barest tip of the iceberg when it came to how he felt right now.

"I borrowed a pair of your pants... I hope you don't mind, robes just aren't what I am used to."

"It's fine." Lawliet was still looking at him like he was some sort of deranged serial killer. _Goddammit._ The whole point of going to his parent's place, after avoiding it for so long, was to alleviate that image Lawliet seemed to have formed about him. And it was no wonder now - Raito hadn't had any reason to school his expression. He'd given it no thought in those moments, so he had no idea what might have been laid bare for the other man to see.

_Fuck! Why am I making this sort of error with him over and over?_

_I thought you left,_ he wanted to say, but couldn't. Lawliet would take it badly to know such a thing could set him off like it had. It would only reinforce the bad impressions he'd already developed.

"I remembered something about work when I woke up," Raito said in apology, approaching Lawliet. The insomniac was clutching the book in white-knuckled fingers. It made Raito frustrated and angry. Mostly it was ire directed at himself, but in a small way he wanted to shake the wariness from that slim body and right out of those eyes that watched him like a mouse watches a snake. "It was a rather pressing matter which I'd forgotten about until now. I'm sorry if I startled you... I thought you'd gone."

_Damn._ He'd said it after all.

"Oh," Lawliet replied simply, his face somewhat blank. "I don't sleep very much." His hands relaxed slightly upon the tome in his lap. "I thought I'd read that book you thought I would like, but I realized I didn't know the title, nor its location."

"Oh, that..." Raito murmured. "I think I left it in the bathroom at my parent's house." He moved closer, leaning over to tilt the book that rested in spidery, pale hands so that he could see the title.

Lawliet tensed ever so slightly, a movement not betrayed by the blank expression on his face.

Raito frowned slightly. _Shake or soothe...?_

"Light reading?" he asked in a slightly playful tone, sinking to his knees as if to better view it. He didn't feel the amusement that should have been behind it. He realized he was donning a mask, hoping that acting out his typical mannerisms would make his guest react in a typical fashion, smoothing the tension and setting things back as they should be.

"Well, I was rather surprised at your selection... this one just happened to stick in my hands."

It was a comprehensive book on Social Psychology. A lot of it rang true, but Raito disagreed with some of the theories expressed therein, due to personal experience and observation. Was Lawliet trying to gain insight into the way he thought in order to analyze him, or was it simply interest in the topic? It was hard to say.

"What is there to be surprised about?" Raito asked, holding to his position by the insomniac's side, watching him for signs of letting down his guard. "A wide range of subject matter is beneficial to anyone in my line of work. It helps keep conversation moving and greases the wheels."

Lawliet's bare shoulder beckoned him enticingly. It was vulnerably pale, especially so in contrast to the black leather of the couch.

It was by compulsion that he laid a careful kiss upon it, exploring it tentatively with his mouth, waiting for the dark-haired intellectual to exhibit some sort of rejection. Muscles tensed, but not a sound was uttered, nor did he pull away. The only movement was the seemingly unwitting tilting of his head as Raito nuzzled the soft hollow of his throat.

_I meant to give him more space..._

He opened his mouth to taste the skin that smelled so incredibly good to him.

_I'm going to make another mistake... I might be making one now..._

The faint smell of sex lingered on his skin, exciting and heady. Lawliet's flesh was slightly salty and oh so sweet as his mouth pulled upon it, with gentle, suckling pressure.

_Why can't I get enough of you?_

Almost as soon as it was slain, his desire for the dark-haired man was rekindling, building itself back up to ferocious new heights.

Raito pulled back enough to see that Lawliet's eyes had drifted closed and his face was not so expressionless as before. He looked caught - unsettled but unable to deny the pleasure he'd felt.

"Do you take food in the mornings, or is knowledge your only sustenance?" Raito teased distractedly as his good humor started to come back to him. Last night... oh if only it were permissible to feel Lawliet against his body so soon. To drown in his harsh breaths and trembling thighs...

_It's becoming a sickness... these thoughts and desires..._

And such indulgences were not to be owned when no viable bond existed between them. They were nearly strangers at this juncture - a thing which prevented the frequency with which he wanted to possess the other man. Lawliet was too flitting... so nearly insubstantial... would he be crushed or marred like a butterfly would be from too much handling? Would such closeness and intensity drive him off? _Or could I catch him in a web of my own devising? Struggling but unable to move away? _

"I eat in the morning," his-dark eyed guest said faintly, a small quaver to the challenge in his voice. Endearing.

"I'm sure you have work waiting for you, " Raito murmured, his lips haunting the skin of that lovely shoulder, "but would you have time to stay for breakfast?"

"...okay," was the meek and shuttered reply.

Raito rose, dark eyes surreptitiously marking his ascent, and turned to the kitchen - giving the other man space while also hiding the smile that spread his lips. Perhaps if he could play things right, familiarity would provide the proper sort of collar for his skittish, pet intellectual.

* * *

L huddled on the couch, knees pulling closer to his chest. The book still balanced on them was quite forgotten.

_Strange._

_Strange and stranger still..._

L's thumb crept to his mouth as Raito left him for the kitchen.

He bit down upon it, a pain that he was used to, something to ground him as he flailed within the circle of the brunet's attention. Raito scared him and seduced him in turns, a combination that served to keep him completely off balance as he was accustomed to neither fear nor seduction. The look on the brunet's face as he had stormed out into the living room just a little while ago had been frightful. Work, was it? It just didn't seem likely, especially when that expression had shifted the moment he saw L, boarding itself up and becoming lost among the usual faces he tended to make - but not before surprise had briefly blossomed there.

If it were merely work, and the remembering of some crucial thing once forgotten, how now did Raito seem calm and at ease without acting to rectify it?

How was it that the crackling anger brewing beneath his skin had been stilted, disbanded, and eventually smoothed over with standard mannerisms flooding back to the fore? Such a complicated process, culminating in the brunet's lips possessively drifting over his skin...

L shivered, still feeling the intensity of those eyes boring down on him and the resulting catch in his throat as Raito had first drifted close, then closer.

It made him anxious to be watched like that, not fully knowing the cause of the brunet's volatile, fickle moods. He'd been uncertain whether it was due to his having left the bed, borrowing things unasked, or something else entirely that he would have no way to name. Had Raito been displeased with him in some way for the night before? Had he been expecting things to happen differently?

_'Tell me you want me inside of you.'_

_'I... please, Raito...' _

L put the book in his lap aside, burying his burning face in his knees, the dialog of the night before snaking into his mind unprompted. Raito had seemed anything but displeased that time, playing his body and dragging the awful, desperation-choked words from him.

_'Tell me you need me.'_

_'I... need you.'_

Need... such a strong, intimate word. So hard to speak when prompted, especially when dark, cherry amber eyes leveled him with such an unflinching, hooded gaze. So hard to respond to that nearly breathless, enraptured voice which crawled and fought its way inside of him, even though it puppeted his lips against the shame of saying those three words back. The dark light that glinted in those eyes in response, the expression that flickered across his face in that instant, hidden again with the indulgent press of lips against his own and a slowly consuming kiss... it sparked through L, then and now. Unsteady desire and trepidation.

_What does he want from me?_

The feel of Raito's lips upon his shoulder, a nearly innocent touch, brought it all back so viscerally. He could feel the possession in it, the intensity behind the gentleness, and the message was that he was at the brunet's mercy. It drew him in just as strongly as it made him want to flee.

And the not so innocent touch... Raito's hot mouth on the sensitive flesh of his neck... his eyes had closed against the conflict and desire it stirred with every flick of tongue.

_I know nothing about you._

_What do you know about me?_

Steady still was his bafflement over how Raito could possibly desire him as it seemed he did. Was that just another sign that the brunet was dangerously bereft of sanity? Or what of his family? Could it be coincidence that they warned L away? Had this... had this happened before? Was there another person Raito had grown infatuated with only to have it end badly? ...multiple persons?

A feeling that was uncomfortably close to jealousy tried to surface.

Raito kissing someone else... cornering and pressing them with these acts of intimacy... laying them down in his bed...

L's hands tightened upon his flannel covered knees, twisting the cloth between his fingers.

_How much of this is just a game to him? _

_How thoroughly will this mess me up if it evaporates into nothing?_

"So, you don't like coffee?" Raito asked him blandly, breaking the spiral of his thoughts.

L jumped, his eyes skating upwards. The brunet was holding a mug of what was probably coffee in his hands.

"I'm sorry?" L said lamely. He might as well own up to that fact that he hadn't heard a word. It was safer that way. Raito's affinity for language and his skill with setting intricate traps with carefully chosen words was second to none. To pretend to have heard anything that was missed, at any time, would be a grievous blunder.

"You looked incredibly put out when I brought it up just now, though you agreed to wanting some just a moment before..." Raito was giving him that calm, assessing look.

"Coffee is fine..." He tried to mitigate the curtness of his reply, since he had apparently requested the beverage, "I usually drink tea, though." Really, it was completely embarrassing that his thoughts had trailed so far away from him that he hadn't even noticed Raito mention the coffee, nor agreeing to wanting any. He was truly deep inside of his own head when he started making automatic replies unconsciously.

Raito handed the mug to him, a slightly amused expression ghosting his face. "You're more Japanese than I am. I rarely drink tea."

"British," L corrected. "The Japanese are not the only ones who take tea."

"Oh?" Amusement. "So you're British?"

L half choked on the sip of bitter coffee (it had creamer and sugar, but to normal people's standards), realizing the giant piece of information he'd unwittingly doled out. _I have to remember not to answer him like that. I have to be just as vague and unhelpful as he is._ "I merely meant that I usually drink British style tea, not Japanese."

"I see," Raito said, the incline of his head indicating that he was not falling for L's diverting statement. The amusement amplified.

"Would you mind adding more sugar to this?" L asked, as if that had been the reason he choked, thrusting the mug back at the brunet.

"How much did you have in mind?"

"Another 4 spoonfuls or so."

Raito grimaced as he took the mug in hand. "Should I have asked instead if you wanted coffee with your sugar?"

L smiled as the brunet cringed in the face of his sweet tooth. "If that distinction pleases you, go right ahead."

Raito shook his head, muttering something about wondering how L managed to stay so thin, and headed back to the kitchen for more sugar.

* * *

As Raito had been making the coffee, he'd been surprised to note that it was actually a good deal later than he'd originally surmised upon waking. What had seemed like minutes of sleep, and surely no more than an hour, was actually closer to 4 hours. It was nearly 3 a.m..

That gave him at least two hours with Lawliet before he should start getting ready for work.

But work seemed very far away in the chill of early morning and the blackness beyond the windows.

Insignificant, even.

He watched Lawliet upon the couch, never tiring of studying the dark-haired man. Such interesting reactions he had to everything... such absorbing expressions...

Work... maybe he could call off. He'd never done such a thing before, so it wasn't likely they'd deny him. But then how long could he expect to keep Lawliet from wiggling out of his grasp? Until after breakfast? If only then, he might as well accept the distraction work afforded. And what about Lawliet's livelihood? What kind of schedule did he keep as a detective? How engrossing was his work to him? Not enough to keep him from his late night forays into bars, obviously, but then how long had he been doing even that?

* * *

L decided that he had better go fetch his phone and make sure nothing spectacularly important had happened in the last several hours that he should know about. He unfolded his legs and placed his feet upon the cool, wood floor, wondering if any of Raito's ire the previous evening had been linked to his phone and that one dark look he'd caught the tail end of in the car.

_If there is a problem with me using my phone, maybe I should just bring that to the fore now. I dislike unreasonable people..._

Uncertainty stayed his hand. It was getting harder to deny that he actively wanted to stay in the brunet's good graces, reasonable or not. If using his phone was that likely to set the brunet off into one of those bitingly awful moods, did he really want to go and do that very thing, just to confirm it and have his little rebellion?

L chewed at his lip.

He'd never had indecision such as this before. Bowing to others' wishes was just not in his makeup. If he needed to do something, he did it. Or if he felt like appeasing a client for his own reasons, for instance, he might do it, but not with such a back-and-forth mentality. He was not in the habit of censoring his own behavior.

_That was a skill I was trying to learn with the help of my experiment... _

Perhaps it was a skill that still needed learned. Wasn't that the focus of all of this in the first place? Doing what did not come naturally and trying to carve out a niche for himself in the world that extended beyond the role of 'detective'?

Was the challenge that Raito presented inadvertently helping him to advance his experiment? The boss level to breaking out of the shell he'd constructed to protect himself?

It was horrifying, in that way. Raito slipped behind his walls in some ways, making them seem useless, while also making him feel as if he desperately needed to keep them intact. What if breaking them down now for the sake of his experiment only proved their necessity beyond a shadow of a doubt? What if freeing his mind left him too vulnerable, and any hurt inflicted was all the more lethal for it?

How stupid then would he feel for persisting in this, only to have it destroy him?

The solitary confinement of his empty room with its lone bed and computer seemed like a fortress in that regard, not a prison. He was safe there.

Raito, or anyone else, could not touch him there.

Only... Raito _had_ been able to reach him there, breaking into the sanctuary of his room with that devil-may-care attitude and lithe stride, interring himself there with a maddening smile.

Maybe he owed it to himself to fight back.

L stood.

"Here," Raito said, returning and pressing the warm mug of highly sugared coffee into his hands before he could take a single step. His eyes were a shade cooler than before. _Where are__** you **__going?_ they seemed to ask. "Sit," he commanded. "Drink your coffee. I'll be right back."

L sank back down onto the couch, pressed there by Raito's eyes, and took a sip from the mug in order to appease him.

_(That was some fight you gave him) _the snide little voice in his head said.

_Shut up._

He watched Raito disappear down the hall.

* * *

Raito felt the vague pricklings of irritation as he strode down the hall. _Leaving so soon? Where had you been thinking of disappearing off to? _Lawliet had been looking towards the hall. His intent was either to regain his normal clothing, which Raito did not wish to allow, or to retrieve his cell phone, which Raito would certainly not tolerate.

The detective's state of undress left him pleasingly open and vulnerable, something that Raito wanted to extend as long as possible. The phone, however... He sneered. _That you shall have only if I choose to give it to you._

He opened the bathroom door and found Lawliet's clothing in a pile that attempted orderliness. Picking up the jeans, he felt through the pockets for the little red cell phone. Black and candy-apple red, it shone dismissively in his hand as he pulled it out.

He flipped it open, navigated to the messages folder and found what he was looking for. He only looked at the ones that were already opened, so as not to leave a trail of his investigation. Emails that came in as texts... no phone numbers were attributed to the messages, but he recognized the voice in several of them. The arrogant, self-satisfied words were even signed by none other than the elusive Mister A..

Raito followed the exchange between the two of them, not liking the tone he sensed in their repartee, nor A.'s attempts to get Lawliet to meet with him.

Not to mention the secrets A. seemed willing to spill... He had no doubt that he was the aforementioned 'acquaintance'.

_Disloyal bastard_, he thought with annoyance. Though it might be that A. _was_ loyal, but moreso to the dark-haired detective than to the one who was paying him - a cause for greater irritation.

There wasn't enough time to go through it all. His only excuse now was that he was grabbing Lawliet's things for the wash (and the pending lie that he had taken care of work matters as well via the laptop in his room). He toyed with the idea of tossing the blasted little piece of electronics in with the laundry, ruining it in the water, but that would cause more friction than he would like and the thing would be easily replaced.

He slipped the phone into the pocket of his black silk robe, to be forgotten until it was asked after, and grabbed the small pile of clothing to throw in the wash. It would give him some time, at least. Lawliet would stay until the cycles had run and he had proper clothes to wear. He would have no choice in the matter, because he would not be consulted prior to his garments' cleansing.

Raito judged him to be too self-conscious to return home wearing someone else's clothes. He was modest, embarrassable, and shared his home with someone who nearly seemed a parental figure, even if they were not actually related. Wrinkled clothing was one thing, ill-fitting foreign clothing was quite another and would spark off questions in anyone's mind.

That it was so early yet was a disadvantage... Lawliet might think to bypass such a situation, and possible interrogation, due to the hour. He might still think to persist in leaving...

_I'll just have to keep him distracted._

* * *

TBC

**A/N:** Chapter title is taken from the title of a Depeche Mode song on the album Playing the Angel. The darkness of it and the overall sound just made me think of this version of Raito for some reason - like an image song of sorts. lol (Check it out on youtube or imeem.)

Other songs I was listening to (also Depeche Mode) include "A Pain That I'm Used To" and "In Chains". Really, I was just listening to like 3 different albums on repeat, but I can hardly list all of the songs. ;p I love their newer stuff! :D


	10. Concessions

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 10

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N:** Finished moving and finally got internet up and running. I expire. DX (Sorry for the long wait!) Thank you as always to my lovely beta **kktwin**.

(*ETA* 5-7-11 fixed some formatting)

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 10: (Concessions)

L eyed Raito as he returned to the living room, carrying the small pile of his clothes in one arm. "Do you have my phone?" he asked immediately. He would hate for it to fall on the floor and suffer an untimely death or get tossed in the wash, the place it seemed his clothes were headed. And he'd decided that dignity necessitated him using his phone if he needed to, dark looks from the brunet be damned.

Raito opened the washing machine, hidden behind sliding panel doors on the end of the living room opposite the bookcases, and tossed his clothes in.

"Wait - Raito, my phone?" he called out as the brunet shut the lid.

Raito looked over at him and nonchalantly pulled the dial that started water rushing into the system. L jumped to his feet, nearly spilling the last third of his coffee. He shoved it onto the couch's side table, and made a mad dash to the sinisterly sloshy sounding washing machine. Prying up the lid had no effect as Raito's spread hand firmly held it closed.

"Raito! What are you doing? I need-!"

"Oh, this?" Raito asked calmly, leaning casually against the white, whirring appliance and producing L's phone in his other hand. He regarded it with an unimpressed expression and raised an eyebrow at L. "You act as if I was going to toss it in."

"Well, I didn't..." L fumbled. "Not on _purpose_." Still, he couldn't quite shake the suspicion that Raito might have done just that. "I wasn't sure if you knew it was in my pocket..."

"Were you expecting a call?"

"Ah... not exactly expecting, but I do use this phone for work, so..."

Raito smiled disarmingly at him. "There's no need to get all worked up. Here." He held the phone out to L. Not too far, just enough to show it was being offered, and distract L's eyes with the thin V of tanned skin that the gaping robe exposed. Raito pressed the phone into his questing hand, and L dragged his eyes to his face, damning himself for the millionth time for being so pitifully susceptible to staring.

L wanted to break the awkwardness he felt in the silence and the shyness that was creeping over him with each passing moment Raito retained his hand.

He was becoming convinced that the brunet actively liked to watch his discomfort.

"Um... Raito?"

"Are you sure you aren't going to drop it?" the brunet anticipated him. "You seem flustered."

"That's-" L switched midstream, deciding an argument of the obvious was worse than useless. "Didn't you say you were going to do something about breakfast?"

Raito released him, smile quirking up at the edges. "Why, yes. Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," L said, skulking away from his tormentor and taking residence upon the couch. He felt put out. No matter what he did or said, the brunet seemed to be 10 steps ahead of him. It was doing nothing for his ego. _Have I overestimated my deductive abilities all this time? No one should give me this much trouble. _But then, maybe Raito was merely a special case?

Even so, he was fast feeling the need to secure a sense of victory in his dealings with the brunet.

He flipped his phone open while Raito went into the kitchen, and scrolled through his messages.

Aiber.

Aiber.

Watari.

_Tch._ Sakizawa wanting to discuss the terms of their contract.

Aiber.

Aiber.

Aiber.

What the hell was Aiber being so insistent about lately? Wasn't it enough that he was being unbearably annoying by stealing one of L's better-paying clients?

L skipped his messages for the time being, and read the Sakizawa mail in more detail. _I really should have called him yesterday..._ But Raito had completely derailed that plan on a grand scale. L frowned. It was also true that fighting Aiber off was almost too tiring to bother with. He nearly seemed to take it as encouragement to be a bigger pain in the ass.

Watari... Watari... He scrolled up to the older man's communications.

Apparently, Aiber was calling incessantly, asking to speak with L. Watari was prone to exaggerate sometimes, as Aiber annoyed him as well; but it was a few calls, in any case. L had never been more glad that Aiber did not have his cell number. It started out as a small way to irritate the blond man, proving that L could remain hidden if he chose, and that Aiber did not have the means to track him down. It was a point of contention for the man that he was limited to emails and Watari if he wished to contact L, and that suited L just fine.

Watari also conveyed that L's recent behavior was becoming a cause for concern. He actually said he was disappointed in L for failing to keep in proper contact.

L's mouth twisted slightly and he chewed distractedly on his thumbnail. He could understand what Watari was saying... but at the same time, he did not feel the desire to disclose his whereabouts at every given moment, especially lately. It wasn't as if he knew what Watari was doing every second of every day. Surely the man did not want to be bothered when he was with his lady friend, or when he was out on dates or whatever it was they did together.

Wasn't he allowed to separate from work at least a little?

(_You've been gone a lot lately_) the voice in the back of his head informed him snootily. (_And what work you have been doing is not up to your usual standard. You lack focus_.)

L was starting to hate that voice.

Watari begged him, at the least, to speak to Aiber in whatever fashion he chose, so long as it would get the man out of his hair.

L thought a minute and sent Aiber a message:

_Work me a miracle and get Sakizawa back in my court, then we'll talk. Please stop contacting Watari, he's a busy man. L_

He went about clearing some of the older messages out of his inbox which was almost at its capacity. Old jobs, dated communications with colleagues, way too many messages from Aiber though they came in fits and spurts... The guy really liked to focus on harassing him when the thought crossed his mind. There could be months in between, or weeks, but on occasions it was much more incessant.

He stared at the recent, unopened Aiber mail, and considered just deleting them unread. They couldn't possibly be that important, and he was getting tired of the pestering. If he lost Sakizawa, fine. He didn't need to keep reading smug taunts about it. In any case, Aiber would be loath to return anything he'd taken - it should slow him down.

L's phone buzzed in his hand, making him jump, and a new mail popped into his inbox. Aiber.

_The hell? Why's he up at this hour?_

L opened the message. It read:

_You wound me, L. The old man and I get along famously. There is no need to sow ill-feelings where none exist. Perhaps if you were to convey your number like a proper person might, third parties could be easily excluded. Just a thought. The limitations of email in those rare instances that you are away from your computer are profound. _

Another dig at his preference for computers over people. And, a not so subtle demand for his number?_ Ha. Bite me. _The message continued:

_Also, I seem to recall telling you that I would not take Sakizawa, therefore he is not mine to return. Surely it __**is **__a miracle you ask of me. To what do I owe the honor of doing impossible things in order to not be ignored?_

_A._

L decided not to reply to him just yet. The man was holding too closely to his games, thinking he had the upper hand. Time and lack of a response ought to break that.

Back to Sakizawa... L composed an email to send to the man.

_Sakizawa-san,_

_I regret that my workload has kept me from contacting you properly in these last several weeks and that is by proxy and email alone that we have kept in communication. If it is convenient for you, I will call your office later today to discuss the terms of your contract and address any concerns that you may have. Please accept my deepest apologies. _

_L_

Whether Aiber decided to be useful or not, L still needed to make the call and being polite and apologetic couldn't hurt. It was good practice. Besides, it's not like he had to _mean_ any of it. Another reason why phones were inferior to the internet - phone calls allowed people to detect your insincerity.

It was a shame that voice scramblers still made so many people uncomfortable.

L looked up from his phone to see what Raito was up to. He could detect movement in the kitchen, but the partial wall that lay between the kitchen's two entryways only allowed him to see form through the upper portion's hazed glass.

Curiosity pried him off the couch.

The pants he wore had no pockets so, after a moment of deliberation, he placed his phone on the end table and picked up his coffee mug.

A kitchen in use was a foreign environment to L. He edged around the corner once he'd realized the brunet was actually cooking, and tried to stay as unnoticed as possible for fear of making something explode. Cooking was not in his repertoire. Like magic and chemistry, the processes were unknown and unexplored and explosions seemed a likely scenario were he to intrude. He didn't mess around with it.

He stealthily put his mug down on the extended counter that server as a table, contemplating more coffee as he watched Raito do something with a pan.

It looked complicated, and rather like making pancakes on an inverted pan which rested upon a device which plugged into the wall. The brunet glanced up, blowing L's cover, and before he could retreat...

"Here, stir this," Raito said, pushing a large bowl and a metal spoon into his hands and instilling a reaction very close to panic.

"What?" Just having the implements in his hands seemed to be swaying him dangerously close to the land of cooking. Who knew what might happen? He'd once set the stove on fire by trying to make store-bought cinnamon buns. Granted, it was the packaging and the turning of the wrong knob that caused the top of the stove to erupt in flames, but the buns themselves emerged blackened and suspiciously close to charcoal by the time he'd been able to retrieve them. There were other instances as well, but he liked not to think of them. On more than one occasion, he'd burned off his eyebrows.

"Stir?" Raito prompted, making a swirling motion with his hand, then turning back to whatever else was more demanding of his attention.

L looked down at the bowl. It was filled with white. Sour cream? A heavy, whipped cream? Yogurt? Without an accompanying item, he had no idea. He balanced it in one arm, wincing at the coldness of it, and stirred the spoon in an awkward motion while he silently prayed for nothing to catch on fire.

Despite himself, L leaned to the side to try and catch a glimpse of the source of the chopping noises and other things he was hearing.

"Stir that faster, Lawliet," Raito admonished him without looking up. "I can hear you slowing down. It must be brisk."

Brisk?

L bit his lip and attempted to stir faster than before. His motions were a little choppy, due to unfamiliarity and the bowl was starting to wobble in a precarious fashion.

_I didn't sign up for this..._

"Oh, and don't drop it," Raito added, "Or we'll be going out for breakfast."

_Right. No pressure. You've just given me the__** pivotal **__item to try and not destroy..._

10 minutes, or an eternity, of _'brisk'_ stirring later, Raito relieved him of his burden. L's frazzled nerves sang and his arm was grateful to stop moving as he sank down onto a stool at the counter and took a deep breath. Nothing had ended in fire, he hadn't dropped the bowl, and nothing had exploded... yet. There was still time. But for now, he was the cause of no disasters and it was a good feeling.

He wanted to ask what Raito was making, but balked at causing any distractions. He could wait. He'd know soon enough.

A little while later, the brunet brought two plates to the counter that L was sitting at.

L looked on in astonishment as one was placed before him. "Are these _crêpes_?" The thin, golden, pancake-like items were folded in half and filled with fresh, sliced strawberries and bananas covered in a light syrup and the mysterious white stuff he had been stirring.

"You've had them before? I thought you might like them since you favor sweets."

"I love them, but I haven't had any since coming to Japan."

He cut into one and took a bite, nearly melting as the flavors and textures, expertly balanced, danced over his palate. The syrup tasted faintly of brown sugar, the fluffy white was some kind of whipped cream which had been augmented with a few other things to make it more complex, and it seemed as if there was a thin layer of jam spread along the inside of the _crêpe_ to deepen the flavor. It was heaven. He'd never had one that tasted so good, aside from when he was living in France.

"You eat them in England?"

L nodded, still overwhelmed by Raito's artistry. He'd thought the brunet had been bluffing about being able to cook. "They aren't the same as the way the French make it, but..." _Oh, crap._ He glanced over at Raito who was smiling smugly.

"I knew you were British," he said victoriously, taking a bite of his own meal.

L let him have that win without too many hard feelings. It was a small price to pay for such amazing food. He'd start his own style of interrogation soon to try and even the score.

He hung on to that thought until he had worked his way through the first _crêpe _and on into the second. It was hard to stop, even just to ask a question, they were so good. "So, where did you learn to cook like this?" Raito couldn't fault him for information digging. After all, _he_ was the one who'd started it.

"France."

L stopped mid-chew and gave Raito a baleful glare.

"What? You don't believe me? Or are you requesting further elaboration?"

L nodded at option number two and waved his knife in a small gesture for Raito to continue.

"It's a bit of a long story."

L swallowed his mouthful of sugared strawberries and cream, fixing Raito with a challenging stare. "I'm sure you'll manage," he said. It was about damn time he heard _something_ of the brunet's background and he didn't particularly care if the story lasted all day.

"More coffee?" Raito asked, testing his patience with an amused gleam in his eye.

L felt a pained expression cross his face. "For the love of..."

"Oh, you make it too easy," the brunet chuckled. "But really, more coffee?"

"...Sure."

Raito reached over to the coffee pot and refilled his cup, dumping in a liberal splash of creamer and 5 spoonfuls of sugar. "It's abhorrent how much sugar you take in your coffee," he commented pleasantly.

"Thank you. It's a tolerance I built up to make people violently revolted with me. It cuts meetings drastically short on a good day. Why isn't it working on you?"

"I'm not simple-minded."

"Ah."

"All right," Raito said, making himself a second cup of coffee as well. "So, I'm sure you've noticed that my father and I do not always see eye to eye?"

"Mmmhmm," L said around his renewed efforts to devour his breakfast, quite satisfied that the brunet was finally speaking.

"A lot of it has to do with his dream of having his son follow in his footsteps and joining the police force. Unfortunately for him, the idea does not appeal to me."

"What does that have to do with France?"

"It was a minor rebellion," Raito said ruefully. "In order to avoid the entrance exams for the police force, I enrolled in a culinary school upon graduating. A classmate of mine was returning home to France and it just happened to coincide. He offered me free room and board with his family for the following 9 months."

L raised his brows. "In exchange for what?"

Raito rested his chin on his hand and regarded him with a flavorless expression. "I thought we were discussing where I learned to cook?"

_We are, but..._ L really wanted to know what would prompt someone to offer such assistance. Could there have been a physical agreement? Was seduction involved? 'A classmate' didn't sound like the two had been particularly close friends... He got the feeling that if he pressed for more information, though, the brunet would clam up. "Sorry," he said. "Go on."

"Anyway, the intent was rebellion, as I said. My father was furious, demanding that I come home at once and do my duty. I refused. He then proceeded to tell me how I had made mother cry, what a disgrace I was, and all of that. I ended up staying there for nearly two years, though I did keep in contact with my mother during that time. After culinary school I began studying law. Being away from home gave me that liberty, and I only returned after securing a position in the political division of my choice." Raito paused and took a sip of coffee.

"In Tokyo?" Raito could have gone anywhere in Japan... "Purposely in Tokyo?" Why escape his father's influence only to come right back?

"Yes. I admit, I wanted to rub it in his face a little." Raito's reddish-amber eyes were watching him, dissecting his reaction. "You disapprove?

"No, I wouldn't say that..." It did seem rather vindictive though. Was that a substantial part of the brunet's personality? He'd seen the tension between father and son and witnessed the brunet doing things to intentionally antagonize him. He couldn't very well say he _approved_ of it...

"It doesn't matter," Raito said shortly, rising from the table. He disappeared through the doorway and L could hear the sounds of laundry being switched over. It was that abrupt manner again... Raito was displeased. L got up and put their dishes in the sink.

_Perhaps now is the time to..._

"Raito?" He spoke loud enough to carry into the other room.

"Yes?"

L paused a moment, deliberating. "How did you know that I was a detective?"

He desperately wanted to know, but it wasn't something that he could bring up on all occasions... He couldn't ask in front of Raito's parents for instance and, most of the time, Raito himself afforded too intense a distraction for him to keep all his questions in mind. Sure, he could always look into it himself, but he wanted to hear it from the brunet first. If that turned up nothing, perhaps he would see if Aiber rubbed elbows with anyone in Raito's circle. That would be a last resort though. Involving Aiber was usually more trouble than it was worth.

To L's annoyance, the phone rang and Raito was walking back into the kitchen and picking it up before he could get an answer. "Hello?" Pause. "How am I supposed to know that?" He sounded exasperated. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" Raito's eyes flicked to the coffee pot's digital display. "Nearly five is right. And what did I tell you the last time you called this early?"

L blinked as Raito held the phone out from his head with a long suffering expression and the muffled squeal of, "Daaaaaaaaaaaddyyyyy!" could be heard on the other end.

Raito put a hand over his face, and gingerly put the phone back up to his ear. "Yes, Chairman." A long pause. "No, Chairman." Pause. "I apologize, I just woke up." Raito listened for a moment and said, "Yes, sir, I understand that. I did not intend to upset her, nor wake you." His expression grew darker, though his voice did not reflect it. "Please, put her on and I will apologize."

L was astounded to see Raito bow and scrape to anyone. It did not look like it sat well with him. Chairman... could it have to do with work?

"Misa, I wasn't yelling at you, you know that, right?"

Raito held the phone out from his ear again. "Please calm down," he said into the speaker, ear piece still at a safe distance.

It sounded like the brunet was hearing an earful of angry, feminine ranting, though L couldn't make out the words.

Raito sat back down at the counter, resting his elbows upon it in a put-upon manner. He was pinching the bridge of his nose and seeming to recollect himself.

"Misa," he said a few moments later, in a low voice that L had become increasingly familiar with over the last several days. It bordered on sensual and the effect it had was instantaneous. The other end of the line fell quiet and Raito was able to put the phone back to his ear. He turned his back on L. "I'll make it up to you... whatever you want."

L chewed his lip as Raito's voice slipped more firmly into a silky, convincing tone, as he murmured assurances. What was his relationship with this person?

"Anything at all, it's yours." Pause. A throaty laugh. "Of course. Until then."

When Raito turned around to hand up the phone, L fully expected to see the usual lascivious smile and playful eyes that went with that voice. Instead, any expression of that sort was in the tail end of falling off of the brunet's face as he slammed the phone on its cradle. "I hate women," he announced darkly and stalked out of the room.

* * *

Raito fumed. _How was I supposed to know the Chairman was back already? _He should have figured that Misa wouldn't call so early again, for something stupid, and risk pissing him off unless she had backup. Chairman Amane had been out of town on business for almost the entirety of the past week. According to his secretary, he was getting back tomorrow.

_I can't believe she set me up!_

_Successfully!_

Unfortunately, Misa was baggage he could not cleanly be rid of. Her family was too well known and had too many connections. Dating her previously had been good for a great many things, but none of them pertained to spending time with her. They'd known each other somewhat in high school, and when she'd approached him shortly after returning to Japan he hadn't had a reason to refuse. She was nice enough, pretty, he'd just had no idea how incredibly _bored_ he would eventually become. It wasn't entirely her fault, they just did not have anything in common and she could not engage him mentally to any degree - unless it was to challenge him with avoiding her twisting his arm.

He tried not to hate her - it made dealing with her more difficult. But he despised being backed into a corner and having to resort to base measures in order to secure her cooperation. She and plenty of other women he had to deal with... they were all swayed by charm, whether it was sincere or not. He supposed it was his special skill.

But Misa... it was an especially bad thing to have to resort to it with her. Her unrequited feelings were like a bomb waiting to go off and it had been quite a feat thus far to keep her attentions redirected to her current boyfriend. But still, he had to be so very careful. She would drop the man in an instant if she thought Raito would have her, and her suggestion-dropping left no doubt as to her willingness to be unfaithful to the son of Congressman Ito.

It was a bloody mess and if anything reflected badly upon the Amane name, or if Misa was not kept reasonably happy, the Chairman could make his life hell.

Now he was roped into _this_.

He grabbed clothes from his closet to throw in a garment bag, and clothes he would be needing for the day.

_Fucking women._

Now that he was back, the Chairman would be using him as a lackey again, borrowing him from the office to shake hands and make a few deals, as always. But now he would have Misa hanging off of his arm at the functions as if she held some sort of claim to it... It would only stir the ill will Ito's son already harbored, and make people think of himself and Misa as a couple - especially in the time after work was _officially_ done.

A _couple_. It suited everyone but himself. _The Chairman wouldn't mind having me under his thumb. _

Raito gritted his teeth. He was ascending the ranks fast, but the Chairman had such a foothold, he was hard to avoid.

Really, it was only inevitable that this situation would arise, one way or another. The Chairman liked clipping people's wings. Especially those who he felt had potential. He would hobble them with menial work, cripple them with his influence, and keep them close at hand. Then, no matter how far you got on your own, he could always yank you back by the chain around your neck.

This past year, Raito had been doing very well for himself. Very well indeed. And the chain around his neck was getting tighter. Always at pivotal times, he was called away to handle something trivial for the Chairman, undermining him in his work and making him resort to relying on others in his division to see things through. Some of the idiots in his division thought it was favoritism and were jealous - seeing the Chairman as a way to advance their careers. They were fools. Those with half a brain, his competitors, were having a field day of it, scrambling to increase their own standing off of his efforts.

_It won't last for long. _

He was making allies and strengthening his own reach day by day. More and more important people were coming directly to him, entrusting him to get them what they wanted. A little longer and the Chairman couldn't cage him.

But until then, he had to make the bastard happy, and make Misa happy.

_A fucking date... _If only the Chairman liked Ito's son more and thought him capable. That would be convenient. ..._likely she'll be looking for more than just dinner._

Chairman Amane had once told him that he hoped Raito would make an honest woman of Misa. Raito had informed him politely that they were no longer dating._ 'Be that as it may,'_ he'd said ambiguously, implying that the two of them were continuing to be intimate or that if they weren't, it was only a matter of time. He had a high opinion of her irresistibility to the opposite sex, and in some ways saw that as a bargaining chip.

The old man was probably hoping Misa would get knocked up, providing him with a steel collar he could snap around Raito's neck.

"Raito?"

He turned to see his dark-haired guest loitering in the doorway, a frown on his face.

_Lawliet._

His soft jags of black hair and deep, dark gaze tempered some of the frustration Raito was feeling. His pale, lithe body was such a sight for sore eyes, bringing him back from the previewed hours of hell he had to look forward to. It was as if he had already lived through the torturous day and had struggled through to find that there was actually a light at the end of the tunnel. Lawliet was truly the opposite of Misa in all ways. Intelligent, attractive, unfettered by the drive to rise in power and affluence, not fixated solely on appearances, desirable...

_Damn it_, he'd wanted to stay, to have more time to explore the recalcitrant man... But he couldn't call off _now_. Now he was stuck with the rearrangement of any plans he might have had. All because of_ her_.

"What was that phone call about?"

"It's nothing." And now, thanks to Misa, a complimentary dose of strife had been introduced between them, crumbling his momentary respite and killing the more relaxed atmosphere they had finally achieved.

Lawliet's look transmuted into a glare. "It didn't _sound_ like nothing."

"Just a last minute change in plans," he said dismissively, tossing a few more things into his bag. There was no way to explain it, and it had galled him to have to take that call where the dark-haired man could hear him. It _would_ sound bad, of course, and that was part of why he was pissed off. It had actually been inordinately difficult to pull off the act this time, too. He'd had to put Lawliet's presence from his mind, white everything out, in order to focus wholly on being convincing.

"What sort of plans?" Suspicion was beginning to suffuse his voice.

"It's work."

"I thought you said you were a political lobbyist?" It increased.

"I am."

"Oh?" the other man challenged. "It sounded to me like you're more of a male escort with a foot in politics."

Raito turned. "Is that what you think of me, Lawliet?" he asked dangerously. He narrowed his eyes and advanced on his guest, noting the wavering of that insolent look. _Was it borne of jealousy?_ he wondered.

He backed Lawliet against the wall, pushing close as he slammed his palm upon it, and relished the brief unveiling of complicated emotion that advanced like tiny whirring gears in his expression. "Is it?" he said darkly, reveling in the sudden breaking of resolve he saw in those endless eyes, the trickle of uncertainty as they closed and Raito's mouth descended on his.

_Nothing like her,_ he thought, _nothing like anyone._

Something in Lawliet drew him in, laying to rest all the obligations and entrapments, calming and grounding him as long as he could have him like this.

Raito kissed him thoroughly, aggressively, pressing against his body as if he could melt within it.

Oh, it was jealousy, wasn't it? What else could taste so very sweet? What else could make Lawliet waver so deliciously between resisting him with tensed muscles or caving in with heated cheeks and quickened breath?

Raito pulled back enough to speak. "It's only work, I swear it," he said, taking Lawliet's face between his hands, savoring the flush of color on his pale skin, and the way he averted his eyes. He laid slow kisses upon the flushed cheeks, delicate eyelids, bruised lips, even as pale hands tried to loosen his hold.

"Stop," Lawliet pleaded, unable to turn his face away. "That doesn't make any sense."

"It's work," Raito said again, placatingly, running his hands up through ink black hair and tilting Lawliet's face for another soul-stealing kiss. _Nothing but work. How could I want her?_

* * *

Raito silenced L at every turn, invading his mouth, his mind, suppressing the questions with conquering kisses that left L flailing.

_Work you say... but what did you agree to?_

_Why would you use that voice?_

The brunet's hands in his hair were undoing him. Running through the dark mess of it, then holding his head still for more punishing kisses.

_Why do you always avoid answering?_

He couldn't stand his lack of control over his own body, or the way his thoughts turned towards parting the brunet's robe, of undressing him.

"Meet me after work, Lawliet," Raito said against his mouth.

"Why should I?"

He was ignored. "10 o'clock or so."

"No." _Why so late? Is that really right after work?_ "No," he reiterated to the look on Raito's face. _I won't be jerked around._

"Please?"

Raito slid that word through him like a slow, deep-seated thrust, one that could be felt all the way to his toes. His eyes slid shut against his will and all he could do is shake his head. _No, damn you._

"Please, Lawliet."

There was that word again! That rare word that made Raito sound like he was requesting, not demanding, maybe even on the edge of begging (in an extremely dignified way, mind you). Oh, and coupled with the unfair use of his name in that tone! His traitorous head was actually nodding this time.

"I'll be looking forward to it," Raito said, and L could feel the smile against his lips as he was kissed. Rewarded.

_Argh! It will serve you right if I break in while you're gone and get into your secret room. Let's see you turn that into an experience you can make go your way!_ L scowled at Raito as he was released from the strength-sapping power of his full lips. _Just you wait._

"On one condition," he got out, feeling a spark of triumph as Raito's eyebrow rose.

"There's a condition?"

"Yes," L said doggedly as Raito's eyes colored themselves amused. "You tell me everything I want to know."

"I can hardly tell you everything, Lawliet," the brunet chided him with a smile, tracing a hand down his chest and following it with his gaze. "Would you disclose the same? Tell me_ every_ little thing I wished to know?" Cherry-amber eyes flicked to his, shading to that warning look.

"How did you know that I'm a detective?" L persisted.

Raito relented. A little. "Does the name Aiber ring a bell?"

"What?" L stiffened in surprise. _Aiber? Aiber? He actually hired Aiber to find out about me? _"Oh, that's it! I'm done." 'God' and the Nazi were in cahoots.

He struggled out of Raito's grasp, but the brunet fought him and held him back down. "I think he likes you," Raito said to his resistant ears, speaking fast as if to mitigate the blow of knowledge before L could escape, a little breathless from the task of keeping L still, "or at least holds you in high regard. He said he doesn't disclose information about his colleagues."

"But that's exactly what he did - as soon as he said that!" _Aiber, you fucking idiot._

"You know that he actually took payment and _then_ said he would have to determine whether it was appropriate to give me further information?"

Raito's voice was calm, conspiratorial, indignant - not the voice of a deranged stalker. It was far too reasonable, too normal to instill alarm. L sagged against his pinned arms. "Not surprised," he muttered. "That's just like him - he's a swindler."

"Oh, so he didn't contact you?"

"He emailed me some rubbish about meeting him for drinks or dinner or something but, then again, he was also gloating over stealing one of my clients."

Raito focused in on him with a heavy stare. "Such an invitation? Is that typical?"

L knit his brows and chewed lightly on the inside of his lip. _Do I even know what is typical for Aiber? Other than being annoying, that is..._"Well, I must say it is unprecedented..."

"Do I have to worry about this man? Or should I kill him and save us both the trouble?"

L jerked, staring at Raito with wide eyes. Such plainly uttered words - possessiveness snaking through them... Raito's hands were tight on his wrists. Would he actually-?

Raito smiled disarmingly. "I'm joking, Lawliet." He paused, raising an elegant brow. "Unless of course, you happen to be interested in Aiber?" There was a dangerous lilt to the question, offsetting his previously assuaging tone.

L shook his head violently, quite unsure if the brunet was really joking or not.

Raito's face slipped back into an indulgent smile. "Good, everyone's happy then." He thought a moment. "Well, everyone that matters."

L spoke up, "I'm not happy that I can picture you carrying out that threat." It was against his better judgment to go there, but he wasn't feeling all that reassured and hoped that by prodding, he might receive a more tenable response.

"You're too easy to rile up. It's only my superb acting skills that make it seem feasible."

L tested the grip on his arms, carefully. Raito appeared to be stronger than him. He stepped out on a limb and said what was really on his mind, "How do I know that's not the _real_ you, and the acting is what makes you seem like you might possibly be in the realm of well-adjusted?"

"My, aren't we being honest?" Raito said drolly as he released him. "I suppose you can't know, it's something you'll have to take on faith."

L frowned and rubbed his wrists. "I'm not sure I like that."

"That's life."

L frowned harder, not particularly enamored of the brunet's curt, dismissive tones. "If you ever kill me in my sleep," he warned ominously, "I'm going to come back and haunt you." Testing... Testing...

"That sounds delightful."

"See, that's where it would be better for you to deny the likelihood." Raito was too blasé. How was that not suspicious?

"How boring. Do you want me to respond in the expected, appropriate manner every time?"

"Once in a while might be nice."

Raito shrugged off his reply and went back to packing, shutting down his laptop and shoving it and the mouse into a leather case.

"Who is Misa?" L asked stubbornly, circling back to the original topic, refusing to be stymied by seduction tactics. There seemed to be a growing pattern there... Ask a question, get kissed senseless. Not to say it wasn't fairly effective...

"Careful, Lawliet," the brunet said lightly, "or you won't have anything left to ask me tonight."

"I'm sure I'll think of something," he said dryly. He was getting wiser to the evasions as time went on. "What is she to you?"

"Baggage," Raito said promptly, not meeting his eyes as he added the laptop case to the things on the bed, his expression growing frustrated.

"Well, let me applaud your earlier acting then. It sounded much more complicated and _intimate_ than that."

_Dear god, I'm acting jealous. I still think he might turn out to be a deranged serial killer and I'm __**jealous**__? What is it - being in Raito's vicinity is enough to inspire insanity? His parents are obviously cracked, his sister probably is, too, and I am not far behind._

"Your clothes should be dry soon. I need to take a shower." Still, Raito was moving around the room, going about his business, barely acknowledging him.

L gritted his teeth. _I'm not at your beck and call to be summoned and dispelled at a moment's notice! _And who the hell is Misa? Baggage? A left-over relationship? A continuing one? Was she the reason 'after work' was as late as 10pm? "I can't believe this," he muttered, turning on his heel and stalking out of the room.

He wrenched open the dryer and began changing into his slightly damp clothes.

"What are you doing?" Raito sighed, having followed him out. "They're still wet-"

"Only as wet as my clothes were the last time I left here, what's the difference?" He pulled on and buttoned up the jeans, the wet cloth giving him a little difficulty.

Jealousy, huh? He didn't like the feeling. He was also growing increasingly pissed off that Aiber and Raito had had anything to do with each other. Aiber was an asshole, L should have expected the Nazi to agree to research him for someone. But Raito? To hire someone to delve into his personal life was outrageous, topped only by Raito's belief that he was entitled to do that while also withholding details about himself. _Pertinent_ details.

"You're acting jealous," Raito remarked blithely, folding his arms across his chest.

"Why would I be jealous? I'm pissed off. First one thing and then another. I have no reason to believe anything you say." It was grossly inappropriate to do what Raito had done, but for him to have managed to recruit none other than the bane of L's career was appropriately over the top. "_Aiber,_" he stressed again, unable to capture the magnitude of his incredulous disbelief. "God."

He brushed past the brunet, who was starting to bear the beginnings of a frown on his regal face. L grabbed his red and black cell phone off of the table. He'd missed a message. Aiber, of course, who else? He flipped open the phone in irritation and read the mail. It was sent about 10 minutes after Aiber's last message, the one which L had decided not to reply to right away.

_Don't ignore me, L. I know you're still there. A._

_Fuck off_, he sent back.

So it was uncharacteristic of him to be so short and crass. He didn't care. Aiber had finally gotten on his last nerve.

"Who are you talking to?"

L snapped his phone shut and looked up. "None of your business. I'm leaving."

Raito looked like he was holding in his initial response to that, maybe grinding his teeth a little. "I'll see you at 10."

"If I feel like it," L tossed over his shoulder, heading for the door. He had no reason to uphold that schedule, and he was too beside himself to deal with the brunet. Possibly for a while. He was already composing the words he was going to strangle and kill Aiber with, and devising schemes of unholy hell to unleash upon him, bothersome to carry out or not. The blond man had gone way too far.

* * *

Raito was biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood. That damn phone, it drove him crazy! _None of my business? _"I'll see you at 10," he managed to get out in a normal voice, reminding the dark-haired man of what he'd agreed to.

"If I feel like it."

Raito strode after him and grabbed his wrist. "10, Lawliet." He couldn't let this mutiny go unchallenged. He had to maintain some sort of control.

Flat black eyes regarded him arrogantly. "I never said I was free, and you never asked if I had any plans."

"Do you?"

"What are you doing until 10?" Lawliet challenged in response, refusing to give an answer unless he was answered first, and in the way he wished.

Raito wanted to growl in frustration. He couldn't be more specific. "It's work, I told you." It's not like he wanted to be around Misa, and Lawliet's anger towards him on the matter was ridiculous. She was nothing. And while it was encouraging that the dark-haired detective might feel jealous, the timing couldn't be worse. The phone call had been horrible timing, the Chairman's early arrival had been horrible timing, and the agreement he'd been forced into had been horrible timing. Compounding and compounding.

"Right then," Lawliet said. "So you attend to your matters, and I will attend to mine. If I conclude them in time, I'll consider coming by."

_Consider it? It sounds like you are entirely brushing me off._

They locked stares.

Raito decided he needed a change in tactic. Lawliet could obviously be quite stubborn when he was set upon it, a trait that he had been noticing was on the incline. The challenge of it was both maddening and engaging.

It would be best if he pulled back and continued to think of this as a game. If he got too involved in things, it muddied his view of the proper moves to play. It was a _good_ thing that Lawliet could defy him like this. It proved how different he really was, and his anger only displayed that he would be too invested to completely leave things as they were.

_I mustn't be impatient._

_I must act like I am in control, even when I am not._

"You're right, Lawliet," he said, dropping his eyes as if being demure and only then releasing his hold on Lawliet's damp, black sleeve. "I shouldn't have assumed your assent meant anything in such a situation." He ran a hand through his hair and fabricated remorse. "It was... tasteless of me." He glanced up after a moment of silence.

Lawliet's expression had shifted slightly, still dissecting him coldly, while at the same time looking slightly uncomfortable. The ghost of a blush lurked upon his cheeks from Raito's very intentional reference to intimacy.

_Oh, yes..._

_Just like this, I can take you apart._

"I just wanted to see you again," he elaborated, a touch of misery in his voice. "I don't mean to keep making you angry."

Lawliet was frowning at him, his eyes softer but no less guarded. "I think you know what made me angry, and it wasn't that." Still, his feet were firmly planted on the floor. He was willing to negotiate.

"I do, and I'm sorry that there isn't enough time to go into it properly right now." It was Misa that galled him, more so than the knowledge that Raito had taken steps to have him researched. _Oh, jealousy, what a thick noose you are._ "I shouldn't have been so abrupt."

Dark eyes searched his face. "You still maintain that this is about work?"

"Yes, and it _is_ more complicated than I first let on... but I can't explain it just now or I'll be late." And _what a torturous affair that will be - explanations. And what exactly should I tell you, Lawliet? Just what is and isn't acceptable to you? _

"Would you like your shoes before you go?" he asked politely, having noticed evidence of his guest's ill-prepared flight.

"Ah..." the dark-haired man looked away, embarrassed and shifting slightly from foot to foot. "Yeah."

"I'll go get them," Raito offered. He was very pleased with the turnabout. So, it took extraordinary effort to make Lawliet eat out of his hand... it was not impossible, even at times like this, and it was _worth_ it.

He found the shoes in the bathroom where he'd last seen them and brought them back to the foyer, placing them in front of pale feet.

He rose as Lawliet put them on with a look of concentration.

"...Thanks," his dark-haired guest said quietly. He stood, rubbing at the damp sleeve of his arm while he looked away and said awkwardly, "And...ah... thanks for breakfast... it was nice."

Raito leaned in to steal a quick, chaste kiss, sensing a weakening. It was a pressing of lips that was done before it could be denied, but left him wanting more. "You're welcome," he said with a small smile, secretly drinking in the hesitation he'd placed in those dark eyes, the uncertainty and self-doubt. "I'll see you soon," he added by way of goodbye as he steered his guest to the door, careful this time not to quantify it with a time. Lawliet would come back to him, be it 10pm tonight, or much later on.

* * *

TBC

**A/N:** Mind games.

Raito has trouble connecting to people in a normal way... it's always head games with him. It comes to mind that a simple "I like you" could go a long way. Oh well, at least he uses his manipulations in a positive (pr0n inducing) way. You can still kick him though, if you want.

One wonders if the police force would really be as trying as Raito's political career. Out of the frying pan and into the fire?


	11. Sparkle and Shine

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 11

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N:**Let me preface this by saying, _"school hell, test hell, moving boxes everywhere, lack of sleep, fevers, etc., I'm sorry for the lack of updates."_ D: It really has been rough these last several weeks, and I have both this story and aBfSF nipping at my heels (despite my lack of time to work on them.) Gah. I think i finally figured out some of where aBfSF is going at least, anyone following that fic can stop being convinced I abandoned it. :S

Anyway, I hope the update is enjoyable! (I have my reservations.) Chapter title is a song by Econoline Crush.

(*ETA* 5-7-11 fixed some formatting)

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 11: (Sparkle and Shine)

L trudged home, his thoughts a tangled mess. The walk from Raito's house to his own was about as short the brunet had promised. It did, however feel longer because an evil breeze was laying a chill upon his damp clothing. He shivered and jammed his hands deeper into his pockets.

In all of the brunet's efforts to engage and seduce him, this was the first time L had had to consider the possibility that he was not a special case. Actively consider the possibility. There was the classmate that had, not likely out of the goodness of his heart, offered Raito free room and board, and then there was Misa. If she was the daughter of someone influential... had Raito entered a relationship with her in order to advance his career? Or was that connection coincidental?

Still... _'Anything you want'?_

He couldn't help but wonder about it, especially because of the tone it had been delivered in. _Anything_ anything? Because of the timing, he would say that a date had been secured, but what else? Raito had not looked thrilled by the prospect, but how far did he go to appease the Chairman's daughter, or the Chairman himself?

Raito was attractive... to a nearly unfathomable degree. It was not a stretch to assume this Misa person would desire him, especially if she was privy to that voice of Raito's which practically dripped sex, even when it was used in its watered-down form. If she were to get it in her head to ask for what that voice alluded to, would Raito meet her request? Would he sleep with someone in order to appease them and keep his career running smoothly? Would he easily classify that as just an extension of his job?

L chewed the inside of his lip, worrying the flesh mercilessly, ducking his head as a gust of cool wind swept over him.

It bothered him that he so quickly jumped to such a conclusion. It bothered him that it might not be inaccurate. But it really bothered him that he did not know for sure and that Raito was determinedly evading him on the subject. So maybe the brunet felt guilty over what he was doing? _Or he thought I might have a problem with it if I knew?_

Most of all, past happenings aside, it bothered L that Raito might do such a thing _now_, after having pulled him into this situation. After interring himself so insistently within L's mind and body.

_I should just walk away. I know I should._

Raito had blindfolded him and spun him around, leaving him to navigate in such a crippled fashion that he was hopelessly lost.

_But he said he would explain..._

_I could have it all wrong._

How did Raito feel about him anyway? Was there something genuine there? It felt so, at times. In odd moments he could swear that he was seeing behind the masks he sensed slipping over the brunet's face like water. At other times, he was stranded amidst the fluctuations of Raito's temperament, afraid to budge an inch lest everything come crashing down. In those times, he could sometimes feel that he was being herded and given his role to play.

Raito was skilled enough that it was not so easy to perceive just when he might be insincere.

* * *

L spent the day being insanely productive and utterly useless in turns.

He holed up in his room, not coming out to eat, as he wanted to avoid the continuation of the conversation Watari had set in motion when L had the misfortune to try and obtain one of his usual snacks from the kitchen. Pretzels and chocolate dip, while quite good, were not enough to offset the doomful glare of Watari as he started to pry into where exactly L had been all night after he had disappeared with Raito, nor the generally astronomical discomfort level of the whole affair.

The only saving graces were that Watari did not know precisely when L had gotten back (so L kept it vague) and that L had not been caught in his clothing from the night before.

"Where exactly do you know Raito from?" the older British man asked with a swishing of his white mustache. He was still peeved at being unable to reach L, or gain anything more specific than the paltry _'I might be out late'_ message L had sent him.

"Around," L said. What exactly had the brunet said to Watari in order to gain entrance to his room the other night?

"Around where?" Watari demanded in confusion. "Until recently, you never bothered to set foot outside the house. Suddenly you're well-acquainted with a young man who is practically a rising star in politics in this region - well-acquainted enough to stay out all night? I warned you not to get involved in local government and legislation. It only makes our job more difficult."

"You did a background check?"

"Yes, when you disappeared with hardly a word. Yagami Raito, 23, a native of the Kanto region. He currently holds the position of a Political Lobbyist. Officially anyway. He has way too much influence for that to be the extent of his job. Perhaps he started off doing the legwork that campaigning requires, but I doubt that is what occupies his time at this juncture."

L refrained from asking any of the questions burning on his tongue. It would be strange of him to inquire, especially since he could obtain the information by doing his own checks. That, and he did not want to slip up and ask something that was, in effect, common knowledge. Like with Raito's father, it would be seen as extremely odd if he didn't know these things. "We did not really discuss his work, per se. I imagine that would get a bit dull after a while, and I tend to not disclose my own profession anyway."

"And you met him where?"

"One of the local drinking establishments. He is quite good with French. A bit of a let down to be told my own usage sounds rustic, though."

Watari relented a little, seeing that someone with a formidable intellect might be drawn to spending time with someone on or near their level. "I see. Well... just be careful that you do not get embroiled in one of the political flare-ups. It would not be the first time outsiders were involved, for one reason or another."

L nodded, itching to be away.

Local drinking establishment... Feh. Sometimes even Watari believed him to be more obtuse than he was. But then, he supposed it was better than the alternative. Words like 'bar' just inspired all sorts of colorful images, and he was trying to sway Watari from thinking he might be personally involved with the brunet.

_Nope. He's just a friendly neighborhood brainiac._

_No wild and passionate forays into the sexual realm here. _

"Well, I have to go give Sakizawa a call," L said, trying to move things along.

Watari looked confused. "You? But you hate calling clients..."

"Yes, yes, I do. Unfortunately, I feel compelled to resolve some loose ends and that necessitates a call. Aiber has been busy."

"You did tell him to stop contacting me when he cannot reach you?" Watari asked hopefully.

"For what it's worth, he says the two of you get along swimmingly... I tried."

The older man muttered something and rubbed his face with a hand, white mustache twitching in self-pity.

L crept out while he was distracted.

Dammit, he didn't_ want_ to call Sakizawa. He'd much rather let Watari handle it. But he better get used to dealing with some of this stuff on his own. It would be good for him. Or at least, it wouldn't kill him. _Navigating the maze of secretaries and dreadful on-hold music will be the worst of it,_ he told himself. The following conversation would be easy. _Never mind the man's inability to translate my flawless Japanese... do I phrase things oddly? Use too many big words? _It was daunting to be engaged in the verbal equivalent of a blank stare. Sakizawa was skilled in that. If he didn't follow you, he would just sit in silence and wait for you to say something else. A man of few words, Sakizawa. The initial meeting with him had been enough for L to be able to play out future scenarios in his head with 98 percent accuracy.

Email. Email was_ made_ for situations like these. Who the hell wants to play _golf_? He'd rather beat himself in the head with a club than endure hours of the man's presence.

Grave Sakizawa, with his obsessively trimmed black hair and mustache... a feast for the eyes and a delight for the mind. If you were a vegetable, that is.

_Might as well do it now_, he told himself, noting that his feet were dragging on the stairs.

Sakizawa's inability to follow what he was saying at all times tended to make L feel stupid. Which was incredibly stupid in its own right, but the feeling stuck. Maybe he should try a video call so that he could draw little pictures and charts for the man. Not by hand, of course. That would backfire dreadfully.

No, on second thought, he would just have to settle with a regular call - gesticulating rudely and pulling faces at the man for entertainment while he suffered silently.

* * *

At quarter to 7, L decided to break his seclusion.

He was hungry, he wanted to be left alone, and he wanted to spend some time deliberating on whether or not he should entertain Raito's request to meet him at 10pm. All of which could be rectified by a trip outside to one of the local watering holes. He supposed a restaurant might suffice, but more attention might come his way for dining alone and making no show of being in a hurry about it. He was thinking of treating this like his other excursions - nothing different than a progression in his experiment - though he knew that was far from the truth. Raito was heavy on his mind.

Somewhat out of habit now, he pulled on clothes that would not have him be the topic of idle conversation. Jeans that fit well, check. A black, long-sleeved pullover shirt, check. They'd both been ridiculously expensive for what they were, being from this or that designer, of which he had no interest in the slightest. On the plus side, they were closer to his normal attire, freeing him from the annoyance of rows of buttons that adorned the infernal collared shirts.

Yes, fashionably faded denim and a scoop-necked shirt of some high quality, soft material. He was a _secret_ slob. No one would know the clothes took no effort and weren't uncomfortable.

Last, but not least - shoes.

He still hated wearing shoes.

They were black leather, they slipped on, and he didn't need socks since the jeans were long. Several hundred dollars assured that they were also stylish. More secret slob attire.

He didn't bother with a jacket. Too much effort, since he only tended to wear them for the journey to his destination and not at the destination itself. Besides, he wasn't trying to impress anyone with painstaking layers of attire. He merely wanted to blend in.

Fancy clothes were akin to camouflage in a social setting.

He'd learned this.

And god forbid he ever had to repeat the catastrophe that was his first visit to _Guissupo's_. If he had to dress up in order to not be stared at with pity and horror, so be it. Of course, not being soaking wet would help to tone down the staring.

He'd been taken aback and a little pleased that Raito had not looked upon him in disgust that time.

For someone so focused on appearance, he was amazingly unconcerned about L's.

Even more surprising, it had not diminished the brunet's apparently overwhelming need to seduce and ravish him.

Baffling.

But enough of that. Keeping things in perspective was crucial. He had no idea what Raito's true intentions were, and the brunet was also a few popsicle sticks short of sanity, by his estimation. He needed to assess things with an impartial eye, far away from heated looks and roaming hands. He couldn't think when Raito was around.

And, as Raito would be currently indisposed with his _date_, L had all the time he could have asked for in which to be impartial.

"Are you going out, L?" Watari asked, catching him as he came down the stairs.

"Yes. I thought I would go get something to eat."

Watari gave him an odd look. "You don't want to just order something in?"

"No. The walk will do me good." He paused. "Don't worry, I'll send you the location I decide upon when I get there." He wiggled his cell phone in the air briefly to demonstrate.

"Ok..."

"Goodnight, Watari," he said and shuffled out the door. Really, was it so odd that he was going outside of his own volition? It didn't seem quite _that_ strange a proposition...

Being out of the house was a relief. He'd earned a respite from the tension. The night air was welcome and refreshing. It was a little cool and damp though. He'd just have to hope it didn't coalesce into rain.

He ended up going into a small bar that he had never been in before. It smelled as if they served food, and possibly even good food. The brass door handle felt less than savory beneath his fingers, so he made a mental note to wash his hands vigorously before attempting a meal.

Much like other bars, it was dark, too loud and smoky. He picked a not-so-smoky table and looked at the menu.

Grease.

Grease.

Salad. (Would it even be fresh? What was the call for greens in a place like this?)

More grease.

Nothing really caught his eye. Everything was battered or fried or messy to eat.

In the end, he decided on french fries and a shot of whiskey. A milkshake would be an optimal choice but he was definitely in the wrong place to get one of those. Maybe later he could loiter around and locate a likely spot.

He didn't feel particularly ill-at-ease in a place like this tonight. A sign of progress? Or was it only that he was too preoccupied to notice those around him?

He got up and left his order at the bar before going to wash his hands. What was it about bathrooms and sticky floors? One could hope it was the cleaning agent that caused that effect, but it really probably wasn't. The knob creaked as he turned the water on. _Was she attractive?_ he wondered again as he thought on Misa. Even if Raito felt annoyance at dealing with her... was she attractive? Would something happen? Was something planned to happen?

He glanced up at his own face in distaste. He was too unique looking. Too pale. A palate of contrast between his light skin and black hair, dark eyes and the bruised circles beneath them. Why had the sales people insisted that he buy so much black? Didn't that worsen the effect?

* * *

Raito had his hands full. Dinner had turned out to be a more social affair than he'd expected. Not that he was unprepared - one of the reasons he'd brought extra clothing in the garment bag he often brought to work. He was never without the appropriate attire, no matter the event. When Misa had shown up at the office around 5:30 in a strapless, black velvet dress and glittering with white diamonds, he knew he had his work cut out for him.

With all the enthusiasm of a man going to his own execution, he dressed in his formal clothes. He did not appreciate the catcalls from coworkers who were staying late. He made a mental note to make them pay for that at the first opportunity that presented itself as he and Misa walked out the door and to the waiting car.

"You look stunning," he said with a smile, as was expected of him.

Misa beamed and tossed her head a little. Her upswept hairdo did not budge. How many pins did she have in it anyway?

"Daddy is meeting us at Charlemagne's, and then we need to drop by Du Ponte's."

"What, is Le Fontain out of season now?"

"They stopped serving Senator Oba's favorite Chardonnay."

_Christ. _"All right," he said amiably.

If he ever became one of those people who just could not be without their favorite drink or food, to the point of absurdity, he'd shoot himself. Le Fontain was the best restaurant they'd found for a multitude of reasons, and also had the advantage of having at least one thing on the menu anyone they were meeting could be quite happy with. But nooo, the Senator had to have his _wine_. God forbid he do without, or drink the house label for one night.

"Congresswoman Maye is looking forward to seeing you," Misa pouted, clinging to his arm. "I don't like her."

There was nothing wrong with Maye, except that she had the habit of leaning entirely too close when speaking to him, and used every opportunity to touch his arm, shoulder, or on rare occasions, his thigh when speaking to him. She was something that could be endured without too much strain. That she was an older women actually worked out great - it prevented her from being more forward. Certainly there were others who topped his list of being unpleasant to deal with.

"If she decides to go along with our proposal, it will be instrumental in getting backing for Ito's project, thereby securing your father's interests. Learn to like her."

"Rai~to," she huffed. "I _know_ that. Misa would never mess things up because she was jealous."

Who ever implanted it in people's heads that speaking in third person was cute? It wasn't. Used intermittently, it was even less so. "There's no need to be jealous, Misa." If she was on about jealousy this early, it was going to be a long night. He brushed her face with the back of his fingertips and graced her with a smile. "She can't hold a candle to you."

Her eyes shimmered at him and she happily resumed her death grip on his arm, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Ito never says those kinds of things to me," she pouted. "He's no good."

"Misa, you should refer to your boyfriend in a less formal manner."

"I don't like his given name," she complained.

"There's nothing wrong with 'Takahiro'. It's a respectable name."

"It's a _common_ name," she stressed. "Not like _Raito_." She drew the name out like she was savoring it. Poor Takahiro's name was probably just too long for her to feel bothered with saying. Ito, on the other hand, offered a nice and snappy speaking experience.

"I'm not sure what my parents were thinking," Raito said. "And the kanji always throws people off."

"I think it makes you look mysterious," she said worshipfully. "Your name suits you. I can't imagine you as a Naoto* or Kenta or something like that."

"Neither can I."

He opened the rear door of the shiny black car for her to get in.

Raito didn't know every name that would be in attendance but, regardless, he suspected Misa was trying to dress up to impress him. He had no doubt that that she had plans to get him alone just as soon as business was concluded. The question, he thought as he got into the car, was whether he could deter her.

* * *

The french fries tasted fabulous, L thought, though it might have been extreme hunger that made them so saltily divine. Luckily the serving was an enormous basket, so he had plenty to munch on and fill his stomach with as he brooded.

After his first glass of sipped whiskey (still bitter to L's tastes, but fitting his current mood), he decided that he was most certainly _not_ going to Raito's later, and the brunet could just chew on that and stew over L's refusal to cooperate like a trained animal.

After the second glass, he was back to fixating on what the brunet and Misa would be doing until the appointed time and feeling, if he cared to admit it, a little depressed.

He looked out the thick windows he'd stationed himself next to, glad at least that the area he'd chosen remained fairly abandoned as people did not wish to be seen from the street. L couldn't care less. He preferred less bodies milling about and less smoke. The windows were a boon from heaven as far as he was concerned.

Where had he gone wrong? he wondered, tilting drink number three to his lips listlessly. Grateful as he was for the numbing effect of the alcohol, it wasn't really taking care of the digging feeling in his chest. He'd liked it better when he was angry...

He could only hope that with the third drink, he could flop back from angst to anger again. He wasn't cut out for angst. It _sucked_. What could be solved by obsessing over this? Thinking upon it in unrelenting fixation would not change anything. Raito would do whatever he was going to do - he would sleep with whomever he wanted - and L's opinion did not affect that at all. It was even likely the brunet would find his objection to be irritating or dismissible.

Was sex such a casual thing? It didn't _feel_ casual. It had him twisted up in knots.

But then again, he wasn't an expert in what public opinion deemed acceptable. He only had his own thoughts on the matter.

_But that should count, right? _

Finally, irritation was filtering back in. Of course it should count. If this wasn't all just some sort of game for the brunet, then some note should be taken of his feelings on this. He should have the right to say that he didn't find the prospect of infidelity acceptable and he didn't care if everyone else may be doing it.

(_Is it infidelity if you aren't even properly in a relationship?_) his inner voice asked.

_Shut up._

"Well, hello beautiful," a showy voice said at L's elbow, nearly causing L to crush his glass in his hand.

L did not look up. _Do I have a homing beacon on me or what?_

"Aiber," he ground out, not in the mood for the man's frivolity, nor his presence in general. "I have not had nearly enough alcohol to make me consider speaking with you in a reasonable fashion."

"Want me to buy a round?"

"No, I want you to _leave."_

"You're more caustic than usual," the broad-shouldered blond man commented unconcernedly as he helped himself to the chair across from L. He sprawled into it and rubbed the designer stubble on his chin as if in thought, the other hand on a tumbler of alcohol. "Was it something I said?"

L glared at him. "You took a contract that infringed on my right to remain anonymous."

"Oh, that." Aiber smiled and waved off the accusation. He took a pull off of his drink and said, "Yagami Raito, political prodigy. No worries - I didn't tell him anything."

"Thanks to you, he deduced my line of work."

Aiber scoffed artfully. "Anyone could have figured that out."

Aiber was pissing him off. People didn't just figure things like that out. And the point of the matter was, Aiber had accepted a contract that violated his privacy, whether he entirely upheld it or not. "You are not making me like you any better right now." The man's glitzy, scam-artist veneer was also pissing L off. He even had sunglasses perched on top of his head like an accessory to his wavy blond hair as if he just might find cause to use them at night. Frivolous, just like the pristine white blazer he wore over his burgundy, collared shirt, which was a button-less affair that showed a good bit of his chest.

"Lighten up, L. Not everything is the end of the world and not everything is about work. Come on, let's hang out, talk about things that aren't work." He looked at the remnants of L's meal. "I'll even buy you dinner, how about it?"

Like hell he was going anywhere with Aiber, the rotten bastard. "I hate you," L said flatly.

"Now that's disappointing," Aiber said, unfazed. "I thought you held more of a grudging respect."

"Not likely."

Aiber leaned back in his chair, balancing it on the back two legs. L wouldn't have minded seeing him unbalance and topple to the ground. "Well, you've always been rather contrary." Aiber sipped his drink, looking all the more like a Nazi with his icy blue gaze and his subtly militant demeanor. "I like that about you. Keeps things interesting."

"I'm going back," L said shortly.

The last thing he needed to hear was that Aiber liked him, in any sort of fashion. And the last thing he wanted to be _doing_ is suffering the man's presence, let alone _'hanging out'_ with him voluntarily. _How had he even known where to find me?_ Had Watari finally snapped under the harassment of incessant calls and told Aiber where he was tonight? He spared a glance at the windows and wondered if maybe it was just his bad luck.

He found himself staring at a small crowd of darkly-clothed people a little ways down the street. What a commotion. It seemed an affair with the press, judging by the couple of bright flashes that sparked off in their midst. _What a pain, you would think they could do that where they weren't clogging the sidewalk._ He'd have to cross to the other side when he left.

"What for?" Aiber said unhurriedly. "It's early, you have Sakizawa, so you owe me..."

L turned his attention back to the Nazi. "You said that he was not yours to return! Now you're going to go back and say that you did me a favor?"

"I put in a good word for you." Aiber swirled the liquid in his glass. "Your conditions were clearly delineated on Sakizawa remaining in your services, you did not specify anything further. It's hardly appropriate to split hairs on giving a few moments of your time."

"You've had a few moments, and I have things to do-"

"Besides," Aiber said pointedly, leveling him with pale eyes, "our mutual friend seems to be a little too busy for you at the moment." He gestured languidly towards the street with his drink and then took a sip.

"Huh?" L turned to look at where Aiber was is pointing. All he saw was that same crowd, closer now, faces distinct. _It's just some lousy reporters..._ Then, in the next moment, one of the men turned and it was Raito's face that came into view - Raito's windswept bangs, keen eyes, and effusive charm. He was speaking to someone in the crowd, a reporter, looking candid and effervescent as they hung on his every word. And there on his arm was a young blonde woman who shimmered each time she moved, drenched in what had to be expensive jewelry. Diamonds sparkled like that, didn't they? She had her arm looped in his in a very familiar manner. She tugged on it and said something to him, smiling brilliantly, and the brunet...

That knowing smile... the perfect ease with which he flirted with his eyes...

"Where do you suppose they're going next?" Aiber asked lightly, stabbing his sore spot. "Hotel? His place? Hers?"

L was seething. _Work? Work? Right. 'Explainable'. '__**Complicated**__'._ He tipped back his whiskey and threw some bills on the table.

"L?" Aiber said in surprise as L stalked away from the table. "Hey - where are you going?" he hurriedly tipped back his own drink and jogged after him. "L!" he called once he got outside.

* * *

Raito looked up with a vague frown. He could have sworn he heard...

"So, Yagami-san, is it official that you have been selected to represent..."

Raito tried to refocus on the interviewer. "Yes, as of earlier this week..." He spoke on automatic pilot, making the appropriate responses and being generally captivating. It was ridiculous to think he'd heard someone calling out L's name. He was just being preoccupied.

"Senator Maye speaks highly of your division, and of you in particular. Do you think that..."

From the corner of his eye, Raito noticed someone striding down the street at a clipped pace. Their hair was dark and spiky, just like Lawliet's. _That couldn't really be him, could it? _

"Raito?" Misa whispered, squeezing his arm. "What is it?"

He realized he was dropping the ball. The interviewer was looking at him expectantly. "Nothing," he said under his breath. "I apologize," he said to the interviewer, brightening his smile and adding a touch of ruefulness to it, "It's been a long day."

Still, the scene on the street was unfolding and he watched surreptitiously as a tall blond man - a foreigner, judging by his more solidly built frame - caught up to the dark-haired man. The blond grabbed the slighter man's arm and pulled him around. Now Raito was almost certain it was Lawliet. How could he mistake that baleful glare, or the dark jags of bangs that fell messily into his face, even at this distance?

Lawliet roughly shook the other man off and seemed to be arguing with him vehemently. One of his feet started to lift from the ground as if he were going to kick the blond, but he was not given the chance as the foreigner threw him into a choke hold and dragged him, protesting, into a nearby bar.

* * *

"Bartender, a shot of 151º, please," Aiber said.

"Let go of me! I don't want to be here!"

"Sure thing," the blond man said congenially, not letting go before grabbing L's face and tipping the shot of liquor down his throat.

It burned as it went down, exacerbated by the strong arm locked around his neck and the unexpectedness of it. Aiber released him then and he folded over in coughing fit. The bartender looked worried. "Damn it, Aiber," L said weakly, his eyes tearing from the strength of the alcohol which tasted like lighter fluid. He'd had too much already. Too much.

Aiber pulled out a chair and slung L into it. L sank into it miserably. His head was spinning a little.

"What's wrong with you?" the blond man asked. "You hate me, but like a guy like him?"

"No, I just hate you."

Anger and depression were warring within him again. He hadn't wanted to see that. Didn't need to see that. Now he had a pretty face to attach to the name Misa. She was a real person, attractive like he'd feared, and seemed to have more than a passing familiarity with Raito. And they were well matched, both at ease in the circle of attention like a pair of celebrities... happy to play for the cameras...

"They say that hate is merely one side of a coin."

L made a face. "That's utterly ridicu-" the word was stifled as a hand on the back of his head pulled him forward sharply against an unfamiliar mouth. He triple blinked, wide-eyed and too startled to react as he suddenly found himself being french-kissed by Aiber. _Aiber._ His brain was so unhinged from the shock of it that for a moment he reflexively kissed back, proving that emotional trauma could, in fact, induce temporary insanity. _I think I'm having a nightmare,_ L thought as he tried frantically to pull away. Aiber didn't have any trouble thwarting him. _Wrong. This is so wrong! _Damn Nazi! What did he have, super-human strength?

"I can't leave you alone, can I?" a pleasant voice said with a chill edge. L stiffened. He knew that voice. Raito. _Dear god, please kill me. _

"Hi, boss," Aiber jovially, having broken the unsolicited contact.

His arm draped casually over L who was utterly shell-shocked. "I'm free to do whatever I want in off hours, just as you are able to spend time with your lovely companion there." He winked at Misa who preened under the praise.

L wished he could become insubstantial and just sink through the chair and on down through the floor. He couldn't look at Raito. Had he seen all of that? His hand crept up to cover his face. And the blonde woman who looked like a model would be Misa, up close and personal. He felt pale and insignificant next to her, and was still massively malfunctioning over the fact that Aiber, _Aiber_, had just... just... ugh.

"Misa," Raito said cordially, his tone cool and flawless once more. "This is Aiber, one of the detectives we have on retainer."

"A pleasure, Miss," Aiber said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. She giggled. "You make a lovely couple."

L felt ill. He sort of waited for Raito to refute Aiber's words, and hated Aiber for rubbing this in so enthusiastically. They undeniably did look like a couple.

Maybe he could try and flee this awkward situation and hide in the bathroom until it blew over? L's hand was twitching with his need to chew at his thumb.

"And who is your friend, Aiber?" Misa asked.

"L," he said mysteriously. "We often partner on cases."

"Oooh," Misa said with interest. "Can you tell me more?"

"An excellent idea," Raito said, a sharpness riding the enthusiasm in his voice. "And I would like to have a word with your partner, if I may. We've been looking to expand our private investigations team."

L saw a hand being extended to him through the cracks in his fingers. His stomach lurched.

"We're all friends here," Aiber said, his arm growing heavier on L's shoulders. "Why don't you talk it out right here and I'll buy a round of drinks?" He was deliberately trying to derail Raito's attempt to get L alone.

"Aiber," Raito sighed as if explaining something for the umpteenth time, "our policies are strict about this sort of thing." To L, it was a voice that was growing obviously displeased. "I can't conduct an interview in mixed company."

L was torn between helping Raito and staying rooted at the table. Either one was not going to be a bucket of fun. But Raito's gaze upon him was growing palpably more severe by the second. It would be better for him if he didn't let this drag on. It would only make things much, much worse, that gaze promised him.

"Aiber," L said. "I'll be right back. Policy is policy." He accepted Raito's hand and cringed as it telegraphed barely contained anger. He avoided Raito's eyes and flashed back to all the times even _simple_ social situations could make him feel this cowed. Oh, if only he'd known then what he knew now.

"I'm Yagami Raito," the brunet introduced himself, shaking his hand as if it were the first time they'd met.

"L," L said.

"If you'll come with me..." Raito gave him the introductory speech as he was herded to the next room. Smooth. It was all smooth and flawless once more.

But they didn't stop in the next room which housed the larger bar. They continued down a small hallway, L being dragged at this point, and into a tiny room that housed several surveillance monitors and a startled looking kid who had to be barely 20.

"Get out," Raito said shortly, shooting him a look that brooked no argument.

"Y-yes, sir," the boy stammered, not overly surprised to see Raito, but giving L a once-over.

"Now," Raito snapped, lighting a fire under his ass.

As soon as the door flapped shut behind him, Raito shoved L up against the wall, his hand fisting in the front of L's shirt. "What in the _hell_ are you doing?"

L quailed under the lashing storm of his words, his arms lifting a little as if to defend himself. How had this gotten turned about? Wasn't he the one who should be angry with Raito instead of the other way around? He stammered, feeling off-balance and somewhat wronged, "Nothing, I-"

"Stop looking away from me!" The authoritative whipcrack of his voice made L jump. Raito grabbed his chin, staring into his face with blistering anger. L reflexively held his breath as he met the fire in his eyes - that gaze threatened to intensify and level him to the ground.

A moment later, however, the mask of it cracked slightly with a fissure of surprise. "You're drunk."

L blinked, not expecting such a shift. Calmer words, and yet Raito's grip on him had not lessened in the slightest. His face was still being held captive and being scrutinized unrelentingly. "Well, Aiber, he-" L tried to explain the forced shot, to maintain coherence despite the discomfort of this sort of inquisition and the steadily gaining haze of the alcohol. It had been too much. He felt somewhat unsteady on his feet. Even before that, he'd had too much. Everything would have been fine if he could have kicked Aiber in the head like he'd wanted to...

"Lawliet." Raito's voice was steel. "Do you have _any_ idea how malleable you are when you're drunk?"

"What?" He asked stupidly in his surprise. Was Raito admitting to having plied him with alcohol intentionally all those times, then? Distracted by that thought, he uttered in faint confusion, "No, I..."

"Idiot!" The brunet spat, raising L's hackles. "Why would you put yourself in this position? Or are you fine with him putting his hands on you?"

The bombardment was too much - uncalled for and disorienting as the effect of the alcohol was muddying his thoughts and surroundings, making him feel attacked and unable to properly defend himself. "Stop it!" L shot back as he curled into the stability of the wall. "I didn't do anything!" This was unfair. He hadn't solicited anything. He'd actively avoided the whole thing. These circumstances had been out of his control. And Raito was assuming he'd wanted to have Aiber do that to him? He'd felt somewhat violated by it.

"You didn't seem to be fighting his advances all that hard," Raito sneered intimately. "Perhaps I'm interrupting?"

L put his hands to his head, desperately wanting some sort of distance. _God. I can't take this._ "Why did you even come here?" L demanded in an anger-strained voice. The corrosive force of the brunet was destroying his composure. _You accuse me of the very thing you're guilty of? You dare act jealous and imperious when what you're doing is a thousand times worse? _"Was it to show off the girl on your arm? To make it obvious how stupid it is to take you at your word?"

"I didn't expect to see you." Raito's expression was closing off, covering itself with a flat, arrogant look and obscuring the evidence.

"So that makes it okay?" he asked incredulously.

"I meant on the street just now," Raito said coldly. "It looked like you were in over your head. Or maybe you like being tugged around like a little doll?"

"You're no different," L snapped, "dragging me and pushing me around like you own me!"

_Is this another instance where you feel free to do what you like, as if you are exempt and no one else is? _

Raito's expression darkened considerably. "So, we're the same, are we?" he said in a low voice, dripping with mocking sensuality. "Would you let him do what you've let me do to you?" He pushed close, speaking in L's ear. "He's had your mouth, what else would he be able to take so easily?"

L shuddered, eyes clenching shut against the acidic words. "I didn't want to come out here," he tried to explain in a paling voice, breaking at the other's closeness. "I didn't want to be around Aiber-"

"But you _did_ and you _are,_" Raito persisted.

The blatant disregard for L's unwitting part in this set L off again. "What do you care?" Anger was rising swiftly to the fore once again, some of it reserved for himself for starting to wonder if Raito's harsh words might be borne of jealously or concern. It was obvious it was nothing more than an attempt to control his actions, while remaining unaccountable for his own. "Leave me alone and go have a nice time with your girlfriend!"

"She's not my girlfriend." There was an illusion of entreaty in the cold denouncement, and the dim light of understanding flickered elusively in Raito's gaze. The hands upon L eased.

"What good is it denying it now? You make me sick." He pushed out from around Raito. He didn't want to see those things now. It changed nothing and couldn't erase the words that had been exchanged. What good was understanding after you'd already flayed someone else open with your accusations and hypocrisy? What good was denying a relationship, but only behind closed doors?

"Where are you going?" the brunet asked sharply.

"Back to the table," L stated tonelessly, without turning back, tension making his posture rigid as he strode towards the door. It was too late for Raito to realize that his strong-arm approach had had the opposite effect than what he'd intended - that it was driving an even deeper wedge between them and was losing him his precious control. Far too late for him to recognize the damage he'd done and try a different tactic. Teetering between harsh and earnest words, Raito seemed unable to decide how to proceed. L wasn't going to gift him with the time to figure that out. This farcical 'interview' was over.

"Lawliet. Don't." Raito's tone shifted, became less scathing, but somehow commanded L's body to halt more expertly than L could convince it to move forward.

L stared hard at the dull shine of the doorknob that was now mockingly within reach and clenched his hands as Raito's arms enfolded him from behind. "Please," Raito said softly, and the word tumbled within L like a stone disturbing a still pond, each ripple deconstructing his resolve as he lay within that heart-crushing embrace. "I couldn't bear to see him touch you..." Contrite lips brushed the curve of his ear, breaking him down. "I don't want to leave you with him."

_It's no excuse. No excuse for the way you acted. _

"Then I don't want you to stay with Misa," he heard himself say tightly, offering an avenue of compromise almost against his own will.

_Show me then_, he thought, _show me how much it means to you that I do what you want by doing what __**I **__ask._

Raito sighed, resting his head on L's shoulder, further caging him. "Lawliet, it isn't so simple. I've already agreed... I don't know how I would accomplish it without making a scene. As it is, I left in the middle of an interview..."

"Whatever you say, I'm not ok with you sleeping with her," L said stonily. "I don't care if it's for work."

Raito drew back. "You think I'm sleeping with her?"

"Are you?" L challenged.

"No," the brunet answered, a frown marring the sensual curve of his lips. "Where in the hell did you get that idea?"

"I'm not the only one who thinks it."

Raito shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. It's nothing like that."

L latched on to the thread of reasoning with single-minded determination. "So there should be no problem with you calling it a night." Focusing was warding off the slight nausea in his stomach, and the brusque words could almost make him convince himself he wasn't starting to feel weakness slipping into his body like a phantom.

He was not holding his liquor well, not at all. He even felt off-kilter at the way his thoughts were being expressed so directly - from his own mouth - pushing back against Raito's words with equal obstinance and fading care for retaliation. Amazing how not feeling well could change things such as this. Suddenly, Raito's disapproval over his bluntness was taking a backseat to L's desire to wring a non-evasive and satisfactory response. Maybe even a modicum of commitment.

_It's deceptively simple, isn't it?_ L thought. _Her or me? That's what it all boils down to. Like you, I'll disregard circumstance, be generally difficult and unrelenting, and __**make**__ it that simple._

Raito gave him an assessing look. "Do you have any idea what you are asking me to do?"

"It's your choice."

"Lawliet..." he sighed and ran his hand through his perfect hair. "That isn't much of a choice."

"I'll make it easy," L offered flatly. "I am... intolerably drunk right now and I probably cannot make it home under my own power. Whether I rely on Aiber to bring me back home, or call Watari to pick me up, I will most likely be stuck with him for a while. I think he's gone completely mental and I would rather avoid staying in his company." He paused, laying his dark eyes upon the brunet's face in an impassive gaze, willing his words to force the ghost of discomfort he saw there into a more corporeal display. "If seeing him push himself on me bothers you as much as your ranting implies, I would think the natural thing to do is to help me out."

"You're manipulating me," Raito said grudgingly, seeming a little put out. "My hands are tied and yet you paint such a picture... How can I be sure he'd even _take_ you home?"

Something about Raito's manner interred itself within his mind and gnawed at it until he ran his own words through his head again several times. The reality of it dawned on him sickly...

_Did I just imply that..._

L put his hands to his head, slowly sinking down into the room's lone chair. If Aiber was anywhere as insistent as Raito had been, he might not make it out of the car unscathed. It was horrifying how blasé he'd been as he said all of that. _If he forces himself on me, it will be your fault..._ And he had felt momentarily vindicated at the thought - of causing anything like the mixture of possessiveness and regret lurking in the brunet's drawn expression - to be able to extract that even more solidly from him, even at the expense of his body and well-being...

"My mouth was moving," L said faintly, "but only now am I hearing how that sounded." Any sort of future triumph in eliciting a personal reaction was smeared away by the reality of Aiber's forced kiss still fresh in L's mind and the lingering feeling of the blond man's arm draped over his shoulders in ownership. He could only imagine the harsh reality of being dragged into the man's bed against his will, let alone allowing it to happen for such a twisted purpose - thinking the entire time of how it might be used to upset Raito. It was such a vile and repulsive notion. What was wrong with him? "I think I'm going to be ill."

How much of that was due to the alcohol and how much was self disgust, he wasn't at liberty to analyze.

"Oh hell," Raito muttered. He pulled out his cellphone and punched a few keys. L could hear the dial tone, ringing and the click as someone picked up. "Misa? Listen, I need to care of something for the office." Raito moved away from him as he spoke. "It's really important and absolutely cannot wait." There was a lengthy pause. "No, I'm sorry, I'm heading back already."

A disappointed wail carried over the line, followed by what sounded like _'Rai~toooo!'_

"Why don't you drop by to see Ito?" the brunet asked. "It's a shame to waste the rest of the night on my account when you look so lovely."

The wailing was beaten back, and as Raito's pacing bore him closer once more, words could be distinguished that bore an upwards lilt.

"Yes, really," Raito confirmed, in a convincing tone that held a smile.

Shortly thereafter he snapped his phone shut and said dourly, "She'll be properly pissed off later when there aren't any witnesses." L felt Raito's gaze settle over him. "Well, I suppose Aiber's good for something then, isn't he?"

* * *

Raito looked down at Lawliet who was clutching his head in his hands miserably. He really did look ill. Raito reached out to place a hand upon his head, but the compulsion to do so was foreign and he took it back at the last moment. "You don't look so good," he said quietly, dropping to a crouch. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Three on my own," the dark-haired man said cryptically. "What is 151º?"

"It's an over-proof rum."

"Ah. It was awful."

What did he mean by 'three _on my own_'? "We should go," Raito said, "while Aiber and Misa are still at the table."

"Shouldn't we wait until they leave?" Lawliet sounded peaky. "They're right at the front..."

"We'll go out the back. Come on." He slipped a hand under Lawliet's arm and pulled him gently to his feet.

"I think I'm going to be sick," the detective said faintly, his body sagging against Raito's.

"No, you're not," Raito said soothingly. "You'll be fine." He was surprised that he wasn't recoiling at the possibility of having Lawliet get sick in his care. It would be unpleasant, of course, but he didn't want to leave the other man stranded in his misery. Raito also wasn't adverse to the way Lawliet was leaning against him for support, tucking his dark head into his shoulder as if to hide from the nausea. He was surprised then, with how easily his own arm slid around the other man's slender frame in a gesture of comfort. "We'll go outside," Raito said against soft, dark hair. "The fresh air will make you feel better. I'll call a car."

Lawliet nodded infinitesimally.

Raito glanced at the monitors again. Aiber was getting up, and he wasn't looking towards the front door.

"Come on, Lawliet," Raito encouraged softly, getting his charge in motion and leading Lawliet into the hall. The boy who typically watched the monitors was nowhere in sight. That was for the better. He didn't want to be held up or deal with Aiber at the moment. He just wanted to drag Lawliet's limp body outside and get him somewhere that he could lay down and be forced to drink some water to offset the dehydration.

* * *

TBC

**A/N:** A real author's note this time!

_"I think it makes you look mysterious," she said worshipfully. "Your name suits you. I can't imagine you as a Naoto* or Kenta or something like that."_

_"Neither can I."_

*****Misa says she can't see Raito as a Naoto. It's an unintentional (on her part) play on words as the name Naoto means honest+person. Raito confirms her unwitting statement.

Also, I'll do my best to get updates pushed out. It is difficult because of time constraints, but I really miss writing, and not being able to post new installments is very frustrating. Like having a bird pecking at your head. Anyway, until next time! :)


	12. Head to Head

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 12

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

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**A/N: **Crazy writer's block... even on just editing. Sorryyyyyyyyy. T_T (damn brain of mine. *kicks it*)

Thanks, guys, for the reviews. They are so insanely helpful, and I cherish them like fangirls cherish their boy pr0n.

(*ETA* 5-8-11 fixed some formatting)

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

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Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 12: (Head to Head)

Raito made the call for the driver he tended to use, shortly after setting foot outside of the video room. He'd focus on bringing Lawliet away from here first, then he could think on Aiber in more detail.

He couldn't afford to meet him again now. Even the merest thought of what he had seen, prior to reaching the table, was enough to make him gnash his teeth. Right now, he needed to remain calm and logical. And, in the off-chance Aiber did intercept them before the car arrived, he needed to be quick on his feet. He needed to remain professional.

The problem was, if Aiber did reach them, or even see them, the blond man was likely to relay that little tidbit of information back to Misa, exposing his necessary lie.

Raito keyed the code sequence into the alarm system that would let them out the back door without the annoyance of an ear-piercing siren announcing their location. He pushed on the door release and guided Lawliet outside, turning to look down the hall as the door closed.

Gravel crunched solemnly under their feet. No sign of Aiber... yet. The man wasn't stupid though, and wasn't particularly concerned with abiding by the rules, so Raito could expect they would be followed shortly.

"Ra..ito..?" Lawliet said under his breath, swaying on his feet.

"What is it?" Raito asked as Lawliet began pulling back from him determinedly. It took a small eternity for the detective to accomplish it, his hand lingering on Raito's arm to brace himself. Dark eyes were closed and a look of intense concentration was knitting his brow.

"I'm sorry," Lawliet managed before releasing his arm and staggering away from him. His pale hand trailed the white wall of the building, either as a guide or for support. His retreat did not last long, however. Within moments, his body buckled and he proceeded to be sick in the dark, wide alley.

The street lamp's illumination stopped just shy of where Lawliet crouched in the gloom. His black hair and shirt were only just visible in the darkness. His shoulders appeared to be hunched and his head hung low, but after the initial sickness had passed, he made no move to stand.

"Are you all right?" Raito asked cautiously after a few moments, stepping closer and speaking only loud enough for his voice to carry, not wanting it to be heard by anyone inside.

"Yes. I'm fine." Lawliet's voice was a little unsteady, but clearer than before. He did not stand. "Just leave me alone."

It was something of a plea, made up of tired words and hollow assurances. _Is he worried about having gotten sick? _

"I'm not leaving you out here like this," Raito stated firmly. The very notion that he would do so was beyond absurd. Lawliet would just have to get over whatever self-consciousness he felt for the sake of reason. The last thing the recalcitrant intellectual needed was to pass out in this filthy alley, alone, making things worse.

"I said I'm fine," the dark-haired man snapped, rising to his feet with significant help from the wall. He leaned against it heavily, his back remaining turned. "I don't need your assistance, or whatever it is you're offering."

Raito didn't rise to the bait, though the words hit him like thrown stones. _Whatever it is I'm offering? _Each one burned - sinking into him with perfectly calculated precision. Too perfect. And therein lay the flaw to being _utterly_ convincing. It was the only thing that kept his words from anger. "Lawliet."

"What?" It was weary now, that voice. Resigned.

It had been a futile attempt to push him away. They both knew this. "People get sick," he said shortly. "It happens. Now stop being foolish - I'm not leaving you out here."

A pale face turned towards him slightly, regarding his outstretched hand with a gimlet eye. "Why are you doing this?"

The question gave Raito pause. Why _was_ he doing this? Was there a simple answer to that? Reasons swarmed the outskirts of his mind, many of which he did not care to cast into solidity with spoken words. It was this persistent _compulsion_ that drove him - the same one which prompted many of his actions in regards to the dark-haired detective. But how to quantify that with speech?

"Because I want to," Raito said finally, challenge shading his tone, daring the other man to contradict and keep fighting him.

Lawliet let out a thin sigh and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. "I don't understand you," he murmured to himself.

Raito regarded him for a long moment before the sound of a car turning into the alley caught his attention. "That should be our ride," he said with finality. "Come with me. I'll make sure you get home."

"...okay."

Lawliet was so reticent to accept the offer of help, it reminded Raito of an injured animal. His dark eyes were caged when they opened again, and looked too large in his pale face. He inched back along the wall on his own, shaking his head at Raito's proffered hand. When he edged back into the light of the street lamp, Raito could see how white and drawn his face truly was. No other evidence remained to indicate he was feeling ill or that he had just been sick. Only the sparse grass would attest to that, and night provided an ample camouflage.

The black car was shiny under the yellowed street light, glinting brightness.

Raito opened the rear door and waited for Lawliet to reach it, feeling more and more antsy as he regarded the back door of the bar. Finally, he caught Lawliet's elbow with his hand and helped the process along, ignoring the protestations he received.

He slid into the car after the detective, shutting the door, and none too soon. "Home," he said to the driver, and as they pulled away, he saw Aiber rounding the corner of the building.

_So, you did not want to gain attention to yourself after all? _He was surprised that the foreigner had not simply gone through the back as they had, and had chosen to remain low-profile.

"What am I supposed to do at your place?" Lawliet asked miserably, pulling his attention back into the gloom of the car. He had his head tilted back against the seat and his expression was strained. "What if I get sick again?"

The sullen tone and simplified speech Lawliet had fallen to made him sound young and fragile, like a tragic, lost-eyed child. It pulled at strings of sympathy within Raito that he was quite sure he'd detached years ago; but there they were, stretching into the dark abyss he saw as the empty container of his empathy.

"Come here," Raito said, pulling Lawliet down to rest his head on his lap. With the overload of inebriation dizzying and souring Lawliet's mind, he'd feel better if he kept his head down. The detective fought him a little but in the end, relented. The byproduct of that empathy was... protectiveness... "Why must you be so difficult?" Raito asked softly, pitching his voice so that it would not sound too loud to overly-sensitive ears, smoothing a hand over dark hair without thinking.

Possessiveness...

Lawliet's hands were pulled up near his face, as if they could afford him some comfort or reassurance. The left rested upon Raito's thigh, a little ways from where L's head lay, and it was as pale as the detective's smooth cheek. It twitched a little as he spoke, curling reflexively. "I can't be sick in a bathroom like that..." was the eventual, murmured reply. "It's too nice..."

But even possessiveness could be swayed from the selfish, demanding monster it could become. At times, it could be bent towards being considerate - alleviating discomfort that was not its own.

"If you'd like, I can take you to your house instead." The words felt fuzzily discordant as he said them, but he deemed it a necessary offer to make, though it was at odds with what he wanted. He focused instead on the movements of his own hands as a distraction, and found them twining in dark locks. "I just wanted us to be on our way." Lawliet's hair really was soft. It was hard not to keep stroking his fingers over it as he'd been unconsciously doing since he'd first touched it.

When no response was forthcoming, Raito gently brushed the heavy, jagged bangs from the other man's eyes and peered down at his ivory face. Lawliet's eyes were closed and his lips were parted slightly. His breathing seemed too even for wakefulness.

"Lawliet?" Raito spoke softly, not wanting to disturb him if he had actually managed to fall asleep.

Again, there was no response but the sound of quiet breaths, and the silent weight of Lawliet's head upon his thigh.

It wouldn't be that bad, as hangovers went, if the detective was actually able to fall asleep like this.

"Mikada," Raito said, addressing the driver.

"Sir?"

"Drive around a bit before heading home." It would be better if Lawliet were able to sleep this off for a little while. The strain on his face had eased somewhat since losing consciousness.

"Understood."

Raito's eyes drifted down and he watched Lawliet sleep, his hand coming back unbidden to stroke his dark hair.

Here, there were no distractions... No Aiber or Misa or anyone else to bring a storm of contention between them. Within this shell of steel they rode in, he could almost believe the feeling of connection that seemed to string between them.

A sense of calm stole over him, completely unexpected but fulfilling.

Just what was it about Lawliet that entranced him so?

His unconventional appearance? While off-putting to others, it had intrigued Raito beyond measure. The little inconsistencies, like how he wore his designer clothing - as if he'd been forced to wear something as comfortable to him as a burlap sack. More curious still was the outfit he'd worn the night they'd met at _Guissupo's_. He'd seemed perfectly at ease in the plain, shapeless clothing - baggy jeans and a too large, long-sleeved white shirt - his only discomfort coming from the sopping state of them and the stares they'd procured.

And the other night, when he had come to Lawliet's house in search of him, the dark-haired detective had been wearing similar attire. It seemed that he dressed differently when going out in public, though he didn't seem to care overmuch about his appearance. The same with the alcohol he tended to drink. He never looked as if he were enjoying it.

_Is he a masochist?_

Raito traced the dark circle beneath one of Lawliet's eyes with the delicate touch of a finger. _What is he hoping to accomplish through all of that?_

_How does it connect to his aversion to people and social situations in general?_

Raito had no doubt that the detective was unused to interacting with people. He could read it in the other man's brusque manner at times, and the uncertainty that would flash briefly in his eyes at others. Lawliet had done his best to push Raito away, but it only made Raito more determined to win his favor. He wanted to get inside of him, to deconstruct the puzzle, to be accepted by someone he felt was actually _good _enough.

He loved the intelligence that shone through those deep, dark eyes.

He loved the feel of them focused on him - delighted in the way they probed him with silent questions.

Those questions were not always so delightful to answer, however, and caused a bit of strife when he avoided doing just that. But it didn't diminish the satisfaction he felt that Lawliet was inclined to dig into him - to search for the true self he never showed to the outside world - and look past his exterior, which people took to be the extent of him.

_So wary, _he thought, looking down on sooty lashes resting in feathery arcs upon pale cheeks._ And in some ways, so defenseless._

Was it any wonder that a thrill raced through him each time he broke through that wariness to extract the heat of passion that lay so hidden beneath Lawliet's indifferent expression?

And yet, Lawliet also had the power to drive him mad with second-guessing... Never before had he had such trouble anticipating what moves to take in order to get what he wanted. Never before had anyone seemed so able or willing to walk away. In that way, he felt control slipping through his fingers like water. It made him act out of hand and stirred his anger to the point were he could not successfully suppress it. It spurred his jealousy.

Raito laid his head back upon the seat and closed his eyes.

What did Lawliet _need_? What made him tick?

Or was the trick of it simply that the dark-haired man did not need anyone, and that all of this was sustained only through the force of Raito's will?

_If not me, then would anyone else be able to push him into a similar situation? Is that what Aiber hopes to accomplish? And would Lawliet allow it? Put up with it?_

He hadn't meant to vent those concerns earlier, throwing them at the detective like sharpened, cruel little daggers.

Raito bit down on the inside of his lip until he tasted the faint trace of blood. _Stupid. _But his control had simply snapped after seeing Lawliet being so thoroughly kissed by the other man. Aiber's closed eyes enraged him, as did the hand upon the back of Lawliet's head that had held him in place.

He hadn't seen Lawliet's face, not until after they'd parted. The guilt upon it and the anxious, quickly averted eyes were like a sick lump in Raito's throat.

All he could think of was getting Lawliet alone.

He'd wanted to lash out. He'd wanted to hear that it wasn't what it looked like or that Lawliet felt nothing when bearing that kiss - even if the words had to be dragged out of him. He'd wanted to kill Aiber.

So difficult it was then to remember his place - to remain the courteous businessman to his employee and the polite date to the Chairman's daughter... so many rules to follow, so much etiquette. There was so much pressure to conform to and he'd had eyes only for Lawliet, thoughts only of Lawliet.

And during the fake introductions, finally assured that the dark-haired detective was nearly within his reach, a flinch had shaken through the pale hand that clasped his.

It was a recoiling, and it sparked in Raito's mind with ugly intensity.

Never before had his hands felt so tied. He'd wanted to force Lawliet to acknowledge the claim he already had upon him. He'd wanted to blame Lawliet for Aiber ever having gotten so close - he'd wanted to punish the dark-haired man for his naivety.

Most of all, he'd wanted to press his lips to Lawliet's and feel the response in him that would lay this spinning, frantic mess of thoughts at ease.

But Raito could not trust the reaction he might've had if he were to detect Aiber's kiss lingering like a taint upon Lawliet's mouth.

Raito opened his eyes and looked dimly out the window. Too late, he had understood the reason Lawliet might have been out drinking in the first place... too late he'd realized that he had not refuted the relationship Aiber had tried to instill between himself and Misa, and the repercussions of such. Too late, and Lawliet was washing his hands of him, angry and hurt and heading back to where Aiber could take advantage of that.

_'I don't want to leave you with him.'_

The words had slipped out as he held Lawliet to him, their brute honesty staggering. He didn't let himself dwell on that at the time, being too focused on preventing disaster and too focused on reading any little signs the dark-haired man might give out that would tell him how to do it. So focused, in fact, that he could dismiss the tightness in his chest as a figment of his imagination.

The dark street and yellow-white lights outside of the car began to look too cold and dismal. Raito looked away in disgust and told the driver to take them home.

_Lawliet, are you really that jealous of Misa? Enough so that threatening me with Aiber seemed a viable option?_

_That you did so without thinking only makes it worse. Would you have come back to yourself, rid of your anger only to find yourself beneath someone else, unable to stop the flow of events? _

_How could I leave you to that, you fool?_

_Aiber would hardly let you get away from him then. I could see it in him... in the way he was challenging me._

Aiber must have discovered something of what had transpired between them... he must have looked into things... done some research... _Damn it. Was all that I accomplished in trying to learn more about Lawliet simply alerting someone who wishes to provide competition? _

How well did the two know each other? What was their history?

* * *

Contrary to L's fears, he did not get sick again.

He had a biting headache though and was not quite as taken with the idea of chugging down water as Raito seemed to be.

Raito used all manner of tricks to coax it into him, earning himself a number of variations of L's baleful glare that were actually new permutations.

After getting inside of Raito's house, L had been deposited on the couch, reclining against a few pillows in the near-darkness of the living room. It was there that the Japanese water torture took place.

"Enough! I can't take anymore," L protested, trying to push the cup from his lips. Every time he struggled through a glass, it was refilled. Any more water and he was going to start leaking from his eyeballs.

"Drink," Raito insisted softly, steel underlying his tone. His hand cupped L's face as the glass tipped to his mouth, his thumb brushing L's cheek in a gesture of encouragement as L tried to turn from it and failed. Cool water forced its way past his lips, flooding his mouth, forcing him to swallow it down or choke. He swallowed and that touch became a caress.

Maybe it was due to the fact that L didn't feel well that the touch struck him so deeply? Sickness was what was making him feel so confused.

Was this rough but caring bedside manner a trick?

(_But it feels genuine..._)

L was still angry about their earlier fight. He was still bruised by the force of it and did not know what to make of a Raito that was so considerately taking care of his physical ailment while his state of mind was left in shambles, ignored.

He'd fully expected Raito to abandon him when he'd gotten sick, and had wanted him to. That would have at least made sense. But the brunet had stayed, impatient with L for not accepting his hand. In that moment, L had been struck by the utter unlikelihood of someone like Raito really not being squeamish about someone being sick in his presence. He'd also felt, like a stab to the ribs, the utter folly of Raito acting like he cared when Misa loomed between them - a threat that was ill-addressed.

He refused to rely on such uncertain kindness.

It was bad enough that he wanted to believe that Raito really cared and that he would never allow Misa near him in any sort of intimate way.

It was weak of him to allow Raito to sway him in any manner, wasn't it? It was pathetic that the stroking of Raito's hand on his head had felt so comforting in the face of his sickness, so much so that it had lulled him into sleep...

He hated how Raito could push past his protests, making him do whatever he wished. Even now, he was choking down the hateful water, trying to keep up with swallowing the rush of it, lest he drown.

"Don't look at me like that," Raito said quietly. "I'm not trying to drown you. Water is the only thing that will make that headache of yours go away." He took the cup back, granting L reprieve. "That's probably enough now."

"Who says I have a headache?" L muttered sulkily, turning his head so that he faced the back of the couch and wearily closing his eyes.

"Your face," Raito responded, leaning in, lips brushing against L's cheek. "Try and get some sleep. I'll bring you a blanket."

L felt even that small touch zing through him, unwanted. He shouldn't feel things like that when he was sick and upset. It wasn't right. He nodded and closed his eyes tighter against it, shivering a little, waiting until he could hear faint footsteps disappear down the hall before analyzing it.

He wasn't enamored of his findings. He didn't like the precedent that was being set - that he was developing an alteration in emotions that was actually at odds with reason. As much as he'd wondered if the brunet didn't contain some measure of caring for him, he hadn't fully contemplated what that meant. He hadn't fully scrutinized himself, or the feelings that seemed to be developing against his will. And why did they have to become more apparent now, when jealousy was making him feel more uncertain than ever? He wanted to be able to ignore it all again.

When the steady sound of footsteps returned, and ceased next to him, L asked, "Where are you going now?"

It was an anticipatory question, for Raito had not yet had a chance to go anywhere, but L expected to hear his quiet steps receding at any moment. Task completed, Raito would be leaving him alone. Which was fine. He was merely curious as to what would be occupying the brunet once he'd gone. Someone untrustworthy like him...he could be up to anything.

(_But then, if that was truly what you were concerning yourself with, wouldn't you have asked a different question?) _

A long silence met his query, and finally L looked up.

Raito was giving him an odd look, the blanket still in his hands. "I was going to sleep in my room. Why?"

It was the answer he had expected, and yet...

L decided it was desperately stupid to feel disappointed and lonely that he would be sleeping on the couch, alone. It was even more stupid that he felt better with Raito near him, despite his mixed feelings. What was wrong with him? "It's nothing." He reached for the blanket.

"Did you need something?" Raito asked, eyeing him appraisingly. "Or do you think the bed would be more comfortable?"

L's heart skipped a beat. It was unforgivably imbecilic of him, but... he wanted to fall asleep with the heat of Raito's body next to him. And perhaps more than that...

"I could always take the couch, if you'd like," Raito continued, analyzing his face. "I thought you would be more comfortable out here?"

Now his stupid heart felt like it had just been swatted with a sledgehammer._ What am I thinking of? Of course it wasn't an invitation like __**that**__. Idiot. Especially not when I made such a wonderful display of being sick earlier..._

L swiped the blanket from Raito's hands and wrapped it around himself. "This is fine." Damn it, why was he so cold all of a sudden? Was there any chance that it - as well as being hopelessly plagued by fits of utterly moronic thought patterns - was a side effect of being unwell and that sleep might relieve such symptoms?

"Or was there something else you wanted?" Raito asked in a lingering voice, sinking down onto the couch next to him.

L was overly aware of their hips brushing together as Raito leaned over him.

"You'll have to tell me, Lawliet. I'm not a mind reader."

L shook his head. His mind was flurrying upon the trail that new observations had lain. For when had he ever seen the brunet act in such an amenable fashion until now? Tending to him so carefully... it was unheard of. Raito was almost transparent in his indomitable drive to get what he wanted, when he wanted, and precisely how he wanted it. Until now, he had never exhibited that which could be misconstrued as a capacity for caring, or a softness in the stone wall of his will. Games and manipulation, cost or benefit, it was by these things that Raito appeared to weigh the world around him. But just now and with Raito's lips so near his own, poised to take, yet doing nothing, those things seemed absent. It opened up the possibility that there were more, hidden facets to the other man that he'd never even considered existed.

And so the twisting trail of observation led here. That in this new demeanor of the brunet's, and regardless of his own weakened state, he still found desire.

He wondered if Raito would bury him with it.

Trepidation surfaced the more L stared into those eyes and the more he wanted those lips, for he was not certain that his body or mind could handle such an encounter in his current state - not if past experience was anything to judge by. Thus far, Raito had proven to be passionate, demanding and all-consuming, pushing him to his limits in every sense until he thought the strain of it would surely break him. He was reckless in the way he brought L's mind and body to heel, as if he were waging war upon him, twisting him up and distracting him in turns until L couldn't keep up and was left at his mercy, seemingly unconcerned if L could withstand it.

Being close to Raito and struggling to keep his pace had been both mentally taxing and physically overwhelming... But what if it was possible to experience a tender passion - even if it was circumstance alone that dictated it? To be held gently and kissed lingeringly... to be made love to instead of being torn apart by ravaging lust? ...Did Raito even contain the ability for such a thing?

_Stop thinking that way!_ L interrupted his wayward thoughts as fervid images flooded too easily to mind. _He's not implying-_

"You're always welcome in my bed, Lawliet..." Raito said as he nuzzled his ear, sending more of those tingling feelings through L's body. "All you have to do is ask."

L was taken off guard by such directness and how closely he'd been anticipated, wondering with horror if any of it had shown on his face. "T-That's not it."

Oh, but it _**was**_.

"Don't lie to me, Lawliet." Raito took the lobe of L's ear into his mouth gently, as if promising an answer to L's innermost thoughts, working the delicate flesh until L could feel a flush suffusing his cheeks. Heat pooled in his body as Raito spoke again in his ear, "I thought you would rather sleep separately... so that I wouldn't be tempted to compromise you while you felt unwell." _'Was I wrong?' _that was the slick, underlying message. That was the Pandora's Box that L was torn between opening and forgetting.

"Is that all you think about?" L condemned himself as a hypocrite with every brush of breath against his skin that made his pulse jump.

"No, but it is a lot of what I am thinking about right now." Raito drifted back, looking deep into his eyes and pining him in place. "Just tell me what you want."

"..." Ravish me gently? _I can't say it. I'd rather die._

After moments of L's silence, Raito's look faded back, releasing its hold on him as it became more benign. Hidden. Seamlessly, he changed topics, "Do you feel well enough now to move or change clothes?"

Proper preparations for sleep... this territory was far less dangerous.

"I think so..." L said, grateful for the alternative Raito offered him and the absolution from his unvoiced desires. "I'd also like to brush my teeth, if you have a spare toothbrush?" Still, they would be circling each other... Raito's moods did not shift as easily as his voice and expression might imply. It was a temporary reprieve.

* * *

"Certainly," Raito said.

This was becoming a dangerous situation.

Raito really did doubt his ability to keep his hands to himself if Lawliet would be sleeping next to him, warm and vulnerable. It would be all too easy to pull his slim frame close unwittingly and tangle their legs together. It would be all too easy to be drawn into the soft heat of his neck.

He'd been trying to be good, to push such thoughts from his head, but there they were again, flitting elusively across the dark-haired man's face.

Tantilizing... engrossing... It was an almost magnetic force that demanded his mouth breach Lawliet's and drink in every bit of deliciously second-guessed desire he could pull from it. This was a level of self-control he was not used to exerting.

Raito helped Lawliet to his feet and led him down the hall, forcibly thinking pure thoughts while the weight of his charge's body pressed close.

_He's sick. He needs taken care of, not..._

_...not any of the things I keep thinking of. _Sick._ He's very sick._

Once in the bathroom, he sat Lawliet upon the cushioned bench and looked for a spare toothbrush. It took a few minutes, there being so many cabinets to go through, but eventually he got one in hand and pried the packaging apart.

"No, just stay there," Raito told him as he started to get to his feet. He stuck the brush under the faucet to get it wet and squeezed some toothpaste upon it. Cupping his other hand under it to catch dripping water, he carried it over to Lawliet and held it out. Dark eyes scanned his face then Lawliet hesitantly leaned forward, pink lips opening to take it into his mouth before his hand made it up to take the handle.

_Dear god._ It was too provocative.

Raito had to turn away before his thoughts got too far. _That couldn't have been on purpose._ It was his own mind that made it seem so, surely. He was simply too fixated on his guest, as always, and the desire to pull him close and watch the half-tormented expressions chase across Lawliet's pale face as he fought the wash of physical pleasure was strong.

It was too visceral, too affecting to dwell upon.

Raito set to brushing his own teeth, ignoring the race of blood through his veins and thinking ahead to what should be worn to bed. He certainly couldn't sleep nude, and Lawliet would be best if he were as dressed as possible.

To that end, when they returned to the bedroom Raito pulled out a long pair of flannel pants, which seemed to be Lawliet's preference, as well as a cotton T-shirt for him to wear. He turned his back so Lawliet could change, and so that he could change into the boxers he'd decided upon. Seeing bared, perfect limbs and delicately pale flesh exposed inch by inch while the other man undressed would do nothing for his resolve. He didn't need to test it, he'd witnessed his own track record. Even the smooth curve of unadorned shoulders drew him in beyond reasonable measure.

He glanced over to see if Lawliet was finished.

The white shirt hung sloppily and askew upon him, showing a lovely stretch of pale throat, collarbone, and shoulder on one side.

His teeth ached to mark it.

"You should take the side nearest the door in case you have to get up for anything," Raito said, pulling his eyes from Lawliet's skin with effort and folding down the covers on the near side of the bed.

"Okay." The dark-haired detective watched him but remained still.

"Come on," Raito said, taking Lawliet's slender upper arms into his hands and pulling him to the bed. The flesh beneath his hands felt right and inviting, giving just slightly under his fingers. He turned Lawliet so that his back was to the bed and pushed him down upon it. He hovered a moment, bending towards that upturned face, wishing he could follow with what came naturally, with what his body wished to do...

_Pure thoughts, goddamnit._

Raito drew back and folded the blankets back over Lawliet's slight frame. _Out of sight, out of mind... right_, he thought as he shut off the light and made his way to the other side of the bed. He slid between the sheets and prayed to fall asleep quickly. It was generally looked down upon to ravish someone who was sick, right? It was also something that would not be misconstrued as caring, wasn't it?

_Since when have I become concerned with caring? _

_It certainly wasn't appreciated earlier when it came out like anger, nor when I made him drink enough water to offset his hangover... _He was a little bitter over that - he did not feel that nursing someone back to health required such a plethora of glares in response. Not that they'd deterred him.

"Raito... I'm cold."

Those solicitous words rang with a tone of doom, conjuring bare skin and shared breaths instead of things like extra blankets. Raito tried to discourage what would make for a long, sleepless night. Namely, entwining himself with the enticing feel of Lawliet's body, but being unable to act upon the desires that were bound to stir. "Well, I don't feel like moving, you'll have to come over here then."

"Raito isn't very nice," came the quietly muttered reply.

_No, I'm not_, he agreed silently.

Still, Raito felt a shifting on the mattress as L crawled closer and settled next to him.

"I'm perfectly nice," he murmured back, his mind already sinking into the tempting heat of Lawliet's body. He wanted to touch him, kiss him so badly. "A perfect gentleman." He could hear the other man's soft, even breaths... he wanted to hear harsher ones, ones that caught in his throat with passion.

_Stop it, you're torturing yourself._

_(He started it) _another part of his mind pointed out.

"Kiss me?" he thought he heard Lawliet say, making his heart beat faster.

"What? Lawliet, go to sleep." He tried to sound curt, but Lawliet's name rolled off of his tongue like it was wont to do, sliding out like silk and betraying his interest in complying. His mind was buzzing, questing, questioning. _Why would he...? Have I fallen asleep and not realized?_

Movement occurred beside him and then a warm body was covering his and lips were pressing lightly against his own, igniting the fire he'd been trying to tap down. Insidiously, it lit through him as the tentative kiss expired. He fought to keep his hands at his sides, to keep from crushing that soft, fleeting mouth against his.

"You're the liar," Lawliet whispered darkly, drifting back. "You never give me anything I ask for."

Raito couldn't bear it any longer. He pulled Lawliet to him, sliding a leg between his and seeking his mouth, rolling him over and pressing him to the bed when he found it.

The noise Lawliet made in the back of his throat kept it from being merely a kiss that Raito gave him. His hands ran up the other man's flannel-covered hips and under his shirt where they could caress bare skin. He reveled in the feel of it, as one would when indulging in a long-avoided vice.

_(What in the hell are you doing?) _he asked himself.

_Nothing. I'm stopping._

But Lawliet was kissing him back so desperately as Raito stroked his skin and his hand played at the waistband of the borrowed pants... encouraging, enticing...

He relished the feel slim hips rocking ever so slightly against his own, a teasing pressure that was taking Raito's control apart piece by piece. Stopping... they should... But Lawliet's hands were brushing down his back, pulling him deeper into it. His mouth was all the sweeter for the temptation it offered and Raito's attempts to resist devouring it.

"Law...liet..." He tried to to reason with him while he was still able, to tell the dark-haired man that they shouldn't do this right now, not when he'd already put such stress on his body with too much alcohol, but the name came out in a broken moan as Lawliet rolled his hips upward and killed the thought with sensation.

_(You suck_) he told himself disparagingly as his hips began to move against Lawliet's, drawing out the ache in his groin and intensifying it. (_This is all the holding back you can do?)_

_Shut the hell up._

He brushed his lips over Lawliet's neck, freeing his partner's mouth to make more of those pulse-quickening noises and caught breaths.

What was he _supposed_ to do when Lawliet came on to him like this... seduced him like this? He didn't quite understand how or why it was coming to pass, seeing as how the dark-haired man had been rather angry before... but Raito couldn't deny how much he wanted to feel Lawliet like this, or how much he needed to erase the image of Aiber possessing his mouth.

His hand stole down to stroke Lawliet's desire, slowly wringing the most beautifully erotic noises from him that he'd heard yet. Raito wanted to give him whatever he would take - focusing on the other man's pleasure solely. He wanted to burn him up with it, until another person would be completely beyond the scope of his thoughts.

To that end, he slid the flannel pants down off of Lawliet's hips, tracing patterns on his bare stomach while his mouth began its descent along pale, flushed skin. Looking up, he could see Lawliet's face was even more flushed, color riding high on his cheeks. He ran his tongue up the silkened steel of hardened flesh, watching the bare expressions that flickered across Lawliet's face.

_So open... Or does he think I can't see?_

Raito flicked the tip of his arousal with his tongue, savoring the small cry that escaped Lawliet's panting mouth, and laid a trail of kisses along its length. Lawliet's hands fisted in the sheets under his teasing ministrations, looking like he was trying not to beg.

_Go on, beg me, Lawliet. I don't mind._

He deviated into stroking milk-pale thighs, pleased when they soon began to shake.

_Lawliet, coming undone before my eyes... _It was a beautiful thing to behold.

"R-Raito..."

The desire-choked sound of his name increased Raito's arousal even above everything else. It was becoming hard to think past. "Aren't you going to ask me?" Raito queried sinuously, lust clouding his voice. "Or are you afraid I'll deny you, since I _never _give you what you ask for?"

He couldn't help that little dig. It had been unfair of Lawliet to say that to him.

"That was..."

Raito hovered his open mouth down over the tip of Lawliet's length, playing at giving him exactly what he so desperately wanted, driving him crazy with ambient heat and the errant movements of his tongue.

"...god," Lawliet moaned, "Please..."

Raito took his time, sealing his lips around his partner's hard heat and taking it further into his mouth. The only things he'd been asked for had been the kiss tonight, and the more difficult request: that he shoot himself in the foot with Misa. Which he _had_. How then did he never give Lawliet what he asked for? He'd given him everything.

Did Lawliet somehow believe that he would jump when just anyone asked? That he would jeopardize even the tiniest little part of his career for _just anyone_?

He held Lawliet's hips down, not letting him increase the pace even a fraction as he leisurely swallowed his length and slid his mouth completely off of it again in turns. He took pleasure in seeing the stoic detective like this, pinioned upon whatever contact _he_ chose to give him.

Dark hair was becoming a damp frame around Lawliet's face, his breathing harsh as Raito drew upon the tip of his painfully hard flesh with varying amounts of pressure. The detective was about at the limit of what he could take - his head was tossing as he uttered and gasped broken syllables.

It was a litany that Raito was not immune to, and it throbbed through him with increasing strength.

He acted before it undid him, rolling the other man's shaft between the fingers of his splayed hands and taking more of him into his mouth in a steady pace that promised release.

Lawliet was hot on his tongue, feverish in his hands. It was bringing Raito so close to losing it himself... so close as Lawliet's muscles began to tense... so close as his pale body bowed and he spent himself with a harsh cry - spilling his essence into Raito's compliant mouth.

Raito swallowed reflexively, without giving it much thought. He was too distracted - he was too aroused to sleep this off, being far more affected than he had anticipated for such a thing. Rather, he could attempt sleep, but it was going to be a brutal lesson in self-control. The point had been to ask for nothing in return. He wanted to keep it that way... but he was burning up.

He could not take care of such a thing here... and getting up from the bed for any reason would also be suspect. _Oh, god, this is going to be the death of me._

He pressed a kiss to Lawliet's lips before laying back down next to him, on his side, and closing his eyes.

"Raito?" Lawliet asked fuzzily. "Don't you want me to-?"

"I'm fine," he said, sounding anything but fine. God help him if he let the dark-haired man finish his thought. No matter what his offer would be, Raito was bound to picture it in such detail that he would _really_ have a problem. Why was being thoughtful so damn difficult to pull off?

"Are you sure?" Thought was filtering back into his voice, and skepticism. "Because you don't sound fine to me." Dark eyes peered at him in the near darkness.

"..." He hadn't expected Lawliet to pursue this, nor had he anticipated how difficult it would be to hide the deepening effect extreme arousal bore on his vocal cords. "I'm just tired."

"Oh, really?" Lawliet said dryly, brushing a hand down Raito's abdomen, making Raito turn his head into his pillow to kill the noise that ground out of his throat. "Being tired does that to you?"

"No, I just don't want to deal with the mess."

Raito didn't need to look to know he was being glared at.

"That's stupid," Lawliet declared indignantly, pushing into his space and rolling him onto his back.

"Whoa - what are you doing? I said I'm fine." Raito scrambled into a sitting position, but a trailing hand caressed his hip, dulling his movements. It was followed by a bolder caress and he barely bit back the moan as Lawliet's hand skimmed over his throbbing need. "God...damnit..." he groaned as that same hand slid his boxers down, and he was too far gone this time to protest it.

His head lolled back against the headboard as a warm heat tentatively engulfed his aching flesh, a thousand times more affecting than any skilled mouth had ever been. "Law...liet..." His hand reached down to tangle in dark hair, to ground himself as sensation rolled through him like a wave.

This wouldn't last long...

How could it, when even the thought of his dark-haired lover offering to do this for him was enough to send him skittering off of the edge? But to feel his soft lips and gentle tongue... To be certain that this was the first time he'd ever done this with anyone...

Raito gasped, his back arching as Lawliet started to employ some of the same techniques Raito had used on him not moments ago. Long, flickering licks and the embrace of a smooth throat...

_Fast learner_, he thought dazedly.

And it truly wasn't long before the burning ache within him gathered, intensified, and razed him to the ground.

* * *

L found that oral sex was not nearly as complicated or mysterious as one might be led to believe, having only just received it and then also given it for the first time.

He also felt immensely relieved that whatever had made Raito hold back earlier, it was not lack of desire. It had been too strange for him to fathom why or how it would make sense for Raito to do these sorts of things to him, but without any sort of reciprocation. It had made him uneasy.

Now, despite the brunet's earlier protests, Raito seemed relaxed and not altogether displeased with him for pushing the issue. He'd pulled L back against him, spooning him and burying his face against the back of L's neck.

It was kind of nice... and restful, despite the relatively early hour. It had to be no more than 11pm or so, but L could feel his eyes drifting shut, and the headache he still maintained was not as difficult to ignore.

* * *

Raito woke up several hours later, his arm enclosing nothing but empty space.

Instead of reacting like the past two times, he rolled onto his other side and jammed his pillow over his head.

* * *

When Raito woke the second time, it took him a moment to realize why he had a crick in his neck, but enlightenment found him as his pillow slid off of his face, explaining also his dream of suffocating in a giant marshmallow.

Dreams were next to useless.

He rolled onto his back and cracked an eye towards a strange, muted clicking noise.

For the first time ever, Lawliet was actually there, in his bed when he woke up. It was a miracle. But then why did he have to have that accursed cell phone in his hands?

"Of course I'm still here," Lawliet said as if he had spoken aloud. Had he? "I just had to use the bathroom. All of that water you made me drink, you know."

_Why does he sound so awake? What time was it anyway?_

"I told you, I don't sleep much," the dark-haired man answered again. "It's about 2:30am."

_Am I talking out loud?_

"Yes."

"Oh." Raito rubbed at his eyes. He was no good at waking up. No good at all. "What are you doing?"

"On my 'accursed cell phone'?" Lawliet deadpanned with something that looked suspiciously like a smirk lingering at the corner of his mouth.

Raito grumbled darkly. Having one's dignity stripped off with a smile hardly topped his list of 'Things to Wake Up To'. "Yes, on _that_." But he couldn't be that acerbic - Lawliet's easy manner and the fact that he was still there kind of killed the inclination. Aside from feeling groggy on too little sleep, he suspected he might actually be in a good mood.

"I knew you hated my phone for some reason," the insomniac teased, in his almost serious sounding way.

"I get jealous."

Lawliet blinked at him in slight surprise at his flat statement.

Raito was a little surprised himself that he was being so open. Maybe he should go back to sleep. "So, who are you talking to this time?" Sleepiness made his question soft and fluffy as opposed to containing the sharpness it might have held otherwise. It was somewhat disorienting, to tell the truth.

"Oh, just Watari," the insomniac said off-handedly, pressing buttons again rapidly with both thumbs. The question did not faze him or make him defensive, and the affable sphere of their interaction was left intact.

_Was it my tone that allowed that?_ Raito wondered, marveling as the expected reaction to the question he couldn't help asking did not manifest.

"I promised not to roam the streets without telling him anything. I forgot to do so earlier..." Lawliet paused, a speculative expression crossing his face before he began hitting buttons again. "I wonder if Aiber has gone and stirred things up?" he said to himself.

_Aiber... _

"Please don't mention him so soon," Raito groaned. Aiber would destroy this hard-won, relaxed interaction between them. He didn't want to think about what Aiber represented: competition, a threat, a bone of contention to make them fight, just like Misa was... Oh, his mind was already off and running on just that one name. Discontent and anger would ride those thoughts. He didn't want that. He liked the peacefulness; he liked just laying in bed, Lawliet next to him, not having to think about what came next or how he might keep the detective with him - because he wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

L felt a shift in the mood the moment he mentioned Aiber. He wasn't thinking deeply about it - he'd merely voiced his musings aloud, and was contemplating the likelihood that Aiber had gone to Watari to relay whatever it was he chose to relay. A perfect reason for getting that message out to Watari as soon as possible. After that talk he and Watari had just had regarding Raito, L wondered how the older man would take it if Aiber told him they'd gone home together. The Nazi would assume that, wouldn't he? And he had to be at least a little pissed that Raito had swiped L out from under him just after he'd made his move, though he couldn't know Raito had then had the pleasure of caring for a hangover.

"Forget I said anything," L said, sounding a little stiff now that he was back to re-evaluating every word.

"Could I convince you to sleep for a few more hours?" Raito's tone changed slightly as well - he sounded more guarded than before. There remained, however, a vein of hopefulness buried beneath it.

Both of them seemed to be trying to recapture the ease with which they'd just been interacting. Whether that was possible or not, he didn't know. (But perhaps Raito's hope was simply intent upon the promise of sleep and nothing more?) "I suppose I could try." He put the phone aside, having finished his message, and slid back under the covers.

Raito threw an arm around him as if he were a human pillow and murmured a heartfelt thank you, settling comfortably against his side.

It was a pleasant weight, warm and inviting. Silky brown hair brushed his cheek like a caress as their faces nearly touched, cradled on the same pillow.

_It's conceivable that I could get accustomed to this... _

Even if he couldn't attain restful unconsciousness, it might not be so bad to lay here in the near dark. L let his eyes close and he marked the passing of time with Raito's even breaths.

Eventually, even he fell asleep.

* * *

TBC

**A/N**: Hmmm, I feel like I need one of these every time now.

Well, let's see... the edits on this chapter were gruesomely labor intensive though they were relatively small. It was one of those things (those of you who write will understand) where parts just didn't _feel_ right. Elusive and maddening. I just couldn't leave it be until I fixed it. :C

Argh I feel unmotivated to an earth-shattering degree.

Life sometimes is just a parade of really annoying things. Send me some rainbow-flavored anti-pessimism waves or something.


	13. Pride and Pestulance

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 13

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N: **Note: 'Pestulance' is a made-up word. Think pestering and pestilence all in one. (Everyone else messes up the English language, why can't I? :D)

Also... a little bit after writing part of the beginning of this chapter, I was watching an episode of Dexter (first season) and they did something very similar to a scene I wrote. I was a little peeved to see it had been done before. So, I just felt the need to relate that little tidbit - that it was not something I copied. Is that anal? Ah, well.

(*ETA* 5-8-11 fixed some formatting)

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 13: (Pride and Pestulance)

One sound that Raito felt very strongly about not hearing in the morning, especially when he was sleeping exceedingly well, was the doorbell.

Or was it a gong? A great, giant gong. The noise _did_ resemble one to his sleep-addled brain, but said brain was still aware that he neither owned a gong nor knew anyone who did. Especially not anyone who would be suicidal enough to beat on it in front of his house at... he checked the clock... at 7 in the morning.

"Who is that?" Lawliet asked from beside him, starting to sit up and slide out of his arms.

Raito pulled him back down. "Maybe they'll go away," he said in a sleep-roughened voice. "Or realize they must be out of their goddamn mind... this early on a Saturday."

Lawliet didn't resist him that hard, sinking back into the bed with him. "Or maybe it's actually important?" the insomniac asked in a dubious voice.

"Can't be," Raito said definitively, burying his head in the other man's warm, cotton-covered shoulder. Nothing could be more important than this. It was the second time he'd woken up beside the detective, and he could more than get used to it.

However, the peaceful, content feeling was somewhat shattered by the doorbell and now, the added sound of knocking.

"Are you sure? They seem rather insistent..."

Raito sighed. "I'll go throw a shoe or a brick at their head and knock them out. Stay here, I'll be right back."

He slid out of bed with annoyance tweaking at him irritatingly. He knew he couldn't stay in bed forever, and his insomniac certainly wouldn't either, but it had been nice while it lasted. It was probably too much to hope that the day wouldn't start after he got rid of the lunatic at the door. He was fresh out of bricks, and his shoes were too expensive to waste on pest control, but maybe a heavy pan against the side of the head would do.

His black robe seemed like a good idea, so he grabbed it on his way out of the room, sliding it on as he walked. He didn't bother tying it and it fluttered heavily against his sides as he moved; he was perfectly prepared to make whomever was at the door as uncomfortable as possible. He was well aware of how he looked in merely boxers - the sight would make most people cower with inadequacy or become stupefied with admiration. Either way, he would crush them for daring to intrude.

He tossed his hair out of his eyes as he opened the front door, sending a scathingly bland look at the person who stood there.

Confusion hit him the next moment as he saw their face.

"Rai~to!"

_Good god, no._

"What are you doing here?" he asked bluntly.

"Eeeee! You look so sexy in that, Raito!" Misa shrilled excitedly, smacking into him with a giant hug. "Misa came to wish you a happy birthday!"

Raito pushed her back as she tried to sneak a kiss upon his lips. "You know I don't like mornings. Couldn't this wait?"

She smiled coyly at him, and brushed her small hand down his chest. As he looked at her, had to wonder why she was wearing such a long coat, tied tightly at the waist. It wasn't very cold out.

"I remember we used make love in the mornings... " she trailed, advancing upon him in what was intended to be a seductive manner.

Raito wanted to smack a palm against his face. Mornings... yes. He could hardly be faulted for that - he was barely conscious then at best. Which made morning sex an easy habit to fall into. Sleepiness could gloss over an amazing number of glaring faults. She had chosen to take it as the compliment it wasn't, however. "Misa," he said patiently, holding her at arms length while she kept moving forward. "You-"

Misa untied the sash of her coat, making eyes at him, revealing just how much she was _not_ wearing under it.

The diminutive red lace looked supremely tacky and was almost dazing in its unabashed statement of 'whore'.

It was a dirty tactic, but an effective one - though perhaps not in the intended fashion - the awfulness of it stunned him long enough for her to snake arms around his neck. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his mouth.

He hated the taste of lipstick.

"Happy Birthday, Raito," she crooned in his ear, her body still pressed against his. Their bare abdomens touched warmly. "I came to help you make this morning a good one..."

Raito wondered what the odds were that Lawliet had actually listened to his suggestion to stay put. Not that he had anticipated _this_.

"_Please_, Raito? Misa can make you feel good..."

And again with the intermittent 3rd-person speech. It was violently unattractive in his opinion. He endured another attempt at a kiss. "Misa, this isn't a good time."

"Huh? Why not?" She pouted.

_Women_, Raito scoffed. She was pouting, but in the next moment her eyes were darting sharply to the row of shoes in the entryway. Really, did that innocent 'little girl' act actually _work_ on anyone? It certainly had no effect on him.

Her arms slid off of his neck and his shoulders as she looked more closely at the shoes. "You have company?" Her light-colored eyes marked a target on his chest. "Who's here?"

"A business associate." Sort of. Well, Lawliet _had_ been a prospective contractor when they'd met the other night...

A somewhat catty expression rose to the surface of Misa's perfectly cherubic face. "Where is he?" She stressed _he_, as if issuing a challenge. She was very practical about certain things, heterosexual to a fault, but not delusional enough to mistake the pair of masculine shoes in Raito's entryway for a woman's.

"In the bedroom," Raito responded unapologetically, confirming both of her suspicions at once._ Yes, it's a man and yes, we slept together. _He hoped his bluntness would be an acceptable way to make her want to excuse herself.

* * *

"Rai~to," the mostly-naked-under-her-coat blonde whined in anguished frustration.

L couldn't believe what the young woman was wearing under her beige coat. Rather, what she _wasn't_ wearing. He could, however, hardly be surprised at the way she was throwing herself at the brunet. Red was not her color though, he thought critically. The red lipstick looked especially tacky.

Details, details. L was pissed at the way she was plastering herself against Raito and the way the brunet had not avoided both kisses. He was also a bit put out at being described as a _business associate_. That was a little cold, wasn't it? And avoidant, really, if what Raito said about himself and Misa not being involved was true. _So, is he leading her on? Or was he lying to me?_

L couldn't see Raito's face, but Misa was staring up at it, her expression becoming reluctantly resigned. She played with an edge of the robe at the brunet's hip. "Is it for work?" she asked, as if that were an acceptable detail upon which to curb her jealousy.

"A business deal," Raito said, his normally rich voice sounding rather flat. "We're still in the middle of negotiations at the moment..." He said the last three words pointedly.

"R-right now?" she stammered.

"Right now," the brunet affirmed. He sounded almost lascivious as he said it, though it was subtle.

She gave a startled blush and quickly frowned. "I guess I'm interrupting?"

"A little," Raito said lightly while still conveying he would rather she left.

_How does he do that? _L wondered.

Still, she was taking it rather well. Was she okay with the thought of Raito sleeping with people he did business with? And why had she had _that_ suspicion even before he'd mentioned it? Had it happened before? L was definitely _**not**_ alright with that prospect.

Raito was walking Misa to the door, but he glanced over his shoulder, meeting L's eyes for a moment. L narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall - fully visible if Misa should turn around. Raito leaned down and said something in Misa's ear, which L couldn't overhear, but effectively kept her from trying to look back.

"Are you getting together with your family this weekend?" L heard her ask tenuously. Hopefully.

"No plans have been made."

"Oh." She drooped a little. "Let me know, ok?"

"Sure," Raito said, his tone promising nothing while sounding vaguely assuring.

With that, she darted forward, kissing him again. Again Raito did not really evade the intimacy. L glared at the back of his head. _Unacceptable._

The brunet closed and locked the door. He turned around with a baleful expression upon his aristocratic face, meeting L's gaze.

L let his expression darken. "Go ahead," L said. "I'm all ears."

"Lawliet, it is _not_ what it looks like."

"Barring your not so _**non**__-_relationship status with her, whatever could you mean? Unless... it's the curious way she seemed to think you often sleep with people to get ahead at work?"

Raito dragged a hand across his mouth. "I admit, I made a few questionable decisions in the past, but it isn't like I sleep with every business partner I come across. It's just that one or two became more common knowledge than I had hoped, making the relationships untenable and therefore, short-lived. It looks bad, I know it does."

L nodded. "It does."

Not only that - were those real relationships that were cut short, or was the brunet actually admitting to...?

"It's all just part of the rumor mill." Raito's voice was falling into cadences that practically caressed one into forgiving. "Don't hold that against me." His gaze was too straightforward as he moved back across the room.

L frowned. "I've seen nothing to discredit such rumors, even had I heard them." _I'm not letting you brush this off._ L backed up as Raito came into his personal space, and kept a choke-hold on his eyes so they did not wander over all that lovely bare skin. "Are you stringing her along or-?"

Raito succeeded in cornering him and leaned in close, his robe falling forward on either side of L. The almost-touch of his skin was so...

"I really like you, Lawliet," Raito breathed against his ear, intensity forming in the words. L's eyes closed against them as they echoed inside of him. He felt them blooming darkly, rivaling his will not to be dragged down any further. _Just how badly do I want to believe that?_

L turned his head and pushed at the brunet. "Stop it. I can't trust anything you say-" The muscles of Raito's chest were smooth and hard, his skin was invitingly warm. L's hands nearly stuck there, so hard was it to pull them back.

_How piteous that I actually want you to mean that and more, and you could be telling me this purely because you've realized that's what I want to hear._

_I'm... jealous. _

_Jealous and angry._

_This is only an attempt to defuse the situation - to erase what I wasn't supposed to see. But I __**did**__ see it, and his actions and methodology are as questionable and disturbing as ever. _

"Lawliet..." That voice was dark and vibrant.

Raito's hands slid around L's wrists, pulling L's hands down the brunet's tanned abdomen. It was horribly distracting, to say the least. L was still chasing fractured thoughts as his hands were then pressed against the wall to either side of him. "I'm _serious_, Lawliet," Raito said, stroking him with his own name and moving closer so that their bodies touched. The air became charged in the small space between them.

Fingers twined with his, and soft lips encroached upon him, testing, taking.

_Stop it..._

A soft, clever mouth, moving sensually against his...

_Damn you..._

It was deconstructing his anger and replacing his natural feelings with these foreign ones, particle by particle... Would this clouding pleasure ever die back enough for him to withstand these sorts of things with a bit of sense left? Would these touches always be so steeped in sensation? He struggled to maintain the more familiar territory of his mind.

"Do you even know what that means?" Raito asked him, voice like silk, sliding L's hands up over his head and pinning them there, making him feel too exposed. "Do you have any idea?"

L's mind clicked emptily like a shutter lens. "What what means?" Distraction and the elusive hold he had on his composure made following Raito's exact train of thought seem impossible.

Raito's cherry-amber eyes demanded his, and their gazes locked. "I like you," the brunet repeated almost curtly, as if saying it again was proving difficult.

L blinked back at him owlishly.

_Like?_ What does 'like' entail? And what worth did that word hold to someone like Raito?

L was still hung up on the image of Misa kissing Raito with familiarity, not to mention Raito's off-handed admission to having physical relations with business clientèle.

"Do you also _like_ Misa?" L asked sharply. "Or is it common practice to sleep with anyone who might have a later use to you, regardless of your personal feelings about them?"

He couldn't help the poisonous words. They were seeping out of him and Raito was still too close, amplifying the twisting anger in his chest until it felt black and viscous.

Raito's eyes sharpened while still managing the pretense of laziness he often displayed. "That was exceptionally rude of you, Lawliet. One could take that to be an insult."

"Do you feel insulted by the truth? Your evasiveness advocates a resounding 'yes'."

Raito's hands tightened on his wrists. "You truly have a gift for being unabashedly blunt." His tone was both flowery and biting. He was angry. "At times, it is quite unbecoming."

L felt his own face form the beginnings of a glare, breaking the usual monotony of expressionlessness. It was an unconscious reaction, a breach of the poker face that guarded his thoughts so well, and it was as unstoppable as his own words. "How much of a fool do you take me for? Should I believe something is truth simply because you say it is so, and with nothing more to back it up? I don't do blind faith, Raito. I never have and never will."

Amber eyes hardened until they were like flint.

L wasn't sure at this point if he was trying to start a fight or not, but the words demanded to be said and they weren't losing momentum, not even at the increasingly stony expression that was stiffening Raito's visage. "Perhaps you are unaccustomed to having your actions questioned, dissected and weighed, but that is the only way I can make proper assessments." L bit back on what threatened to follow, and wrestled with control over his voice. Dampened anger still pervaded his words. "Only - the more I try to understand you, the less you give me. I'd be _blind_ not to notice that!"

_And you would be a fool for expecting me not to see it._

By the end, the brunet had disowned L's hands and turned his back upon him. Raito's tensed posture indicated that he was further incensed, which half made L want to kick him and damn the consequences. _Why must he be so __**difficult**__?_

"If you were _anyone_ else," Raito said tersely, "you would not be nearly this difficult to deal with." There was a pause, as if the brunet were weighing his words. In the end, he spoke in a tight, clipped manner that reeked of restrained anger and forced calm. "Lawliet, you really piss me off sometimes."

"Likewise," L responded.

Dropping a bomb in their midst might have had the same effect. L knew that as he swatted Raito's carefully controlled words back at him, but he did it anyway.

Raito turned to look at him, almost a pirouette as he pivoted on his heel. His tone was sour, "And yet I think that is partially to blame for why I like you enough to tell you I'm serious about you. Not that you are actually _listening_ to me."

It was a much less spectacular display than L was expecting. Raito, if he was not mistaken, was acting conciliatory though it might have been through clenched teeth.

_Was_ he serious? Or was he just serious about making L believe him?

"Is there any particular reason you looked so pained when telling me something like that?" L asked him, safe again behind a blank mask of detached interest, which was hard-won. He held Raito's gaze impassively, as if unaware of the manner in which such a question had to be received, or the sort of challenge it constituted. He played the 'socially inept' card just to see how the brunet would react.

Raito regarded him with a gimlet eye and an impressive frown. "With most people, I'd be allowed to be circumspect. You demand everything be lain out for you in no uncertain terms. It's disconcerting, and it's also annoyingly ironic that you don't even believe me."

L sensed the brunet was being open. If he weren't, L doubted he would allow irritation to leak into his voice in such a way. Still, he had to keep in mind that Raito might have accounted for that.

"Well, you aren't very convincing."

"What more do you require?"

Raito stared at him unflinchingly. L stared back. It was a somewhat uncomfortable battle of wills.

"I don't know," L said finally. "It is not quantifiable." Even if it were, he hardly saw the point in telling the brunet exactly what to do to procure his trust. That would be like giving a criminal the keys to the city.

Raito sighed. "I need coffee. Do you want any, or am I too untrustworthy for that task?"

L frowned back at him and followed him into the kitchen. "I never indicated that you were wholly untrustworthy."

"You imply it on a multitude of levels," Raito said flatly.

"..." Well, it was true that trusting the brunet's intentions or sincerity seemed, at times, the height of folly. However, it was not L's intention to make such a thing unavoidably obvious to the other man. He'd sort of hoped that as time went on, he would be given more reason to relax his guard instead of finding more to make him wary.

L sat down at the small table and watched tanned, articulate hands go about the business of preparing the richly fragrant beverage.

"I do not like Misa," L said, deciding that being almost intolerably forthright might be somewhat fruitful. Perhaps it was also one of the few ways to field an inquiry on trust - airing a source of discontent on the matter. And, yes... it was a bit of a challenge as well.

"Perfect," Raito replied, setting a steaming mug of highly sugared coffee on the table before him. "Because I find myself quite disenchanted with Aiber."

Staaaaare.

"I did not solicit his behavior in any way," L said defensively.

"You got drunk with him."

"I got drunk on my own," L corrected him. "Meanwhile, you were out on the town with Misa hanging all over you, followed by a rather enthusiastic greeting this morning."

"It's my birthday, apparently. I'd forgotten."

"Well what a shame that I was here then, or you might have been able to accept her 'present'..."

Raito actually cringed (or maybe it was more of a shudder?) before rubbing a hand over his face. "That is really the last thing I would have wanted," he said under his breath.

L regarded him carefully. Maybe Raito _was_ being truthful about his disinterest in Misa? Hope sparked faintly in L's chest. Not that his handling of her didn't leave things to be desired, but it was a start. Perhaps he was just not good at saying no, especially when he could perceive gain from capitulation...? That would be a severe personality flaw, as far as L was concerned, but it was a behavior that could be _modified_. He could be _**trained**_ out of it.

"What are you thinking about?" Raito asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," L said, hiding his enlightened expression behind a large sip of coffee. _Severe_ training.

Raito looked skeptical but seemed to decide against pursuing it. "What are the chances that you would be free on Sunday?"

L's cup dropped in his hand and he nearly spilled coffee in his surprise. Raito jumped as the liquid sloshed dangerously in his direction. "What is it?" he shot out in a startled, defensive voice.

Regaining control of the coffee, L said, "I'm sorry, did you just _ask_ me if I was free?"

"Is there something wrong with that-?"

L set his mug down firmly with both hands and peered at the brunet. Not only was this advance notice, it being Saturday, but he was being actually given an option. "It's abnormal behavior for you. Are you ill?"

Raito's look of consternation fast transformed into annoyance. "If you weren't so difficult, I'd be able to _ask_ more frequently instead of demanding it."

"...Are you saying that you're afraid I'd decline otherwise?"

"No," Raito said waspishly, looking away in irritation.

L was convinced he was correct, however. "So if I were to tell you that I most definitely will _not_ be free on Sunday, you wouldn't mind?"

A reluctant amber eye trailed back to him. "What is Sunday to you?"

"Does it matter? An invitation does not necessitate a recounting of my schedule, does it? That would be a rather tedious exchange to expect."

Both eyes were on him now. L waited.

"Of course not, though it would be considered rude to decline in such a manner." Raito arched a brow imperiously. "It implies that the invitee really has nothing better to do and it denotes a certain lack of class."

* * *

Lawliet gazed back at him, unconcerned; his black eyes were flat and unreadable. "Yet, regrettably, that is how I decline such things. Are you certain you should entertain the company of someone so coarse as myself? It may reflect badly upon you."

Deftly, he had turned Raito's ploy back upon itself, not bending to it as he ought to have. Raito ground his teeth in silent irritation. So this is what he got for _asking_ then? The detective was as likely to comply as Raito had anticipated. He seemed to take joy in denying Raito's gestures of consideration.

It was vexing, but also somewhat charming in an insane sort of way. Raito half wanted to smack him and half wanted to drag him over the table and kiss him.

Also, there was a trick to Lawliet's responses... he was trying to accomplish something... It wasn't something so simple as him being discontent with demands as opposed to inquiries on his time, or surely he would have accepted. _Was it something to do with that curious look I caught earlier?_

Raito sighed dramatically and stood up from the table. "Well that's it then, I suppose. I'll have to endure Misa since you are otherwise engaged." He took his mug to the sink so that he could have the luxury of turning his back on his disgruntled companion. A shame, though, he would't have minded another cup of coffee.

"And why is that?" Lawliet asked after a stiff moment of silence.

Raito began washing his mug. "Oh, it's that silly practice of having a reason to decline, which you don't subscribe to. I don't expect you to understand. Pay it no mind."

Raito was surprised when Lawliet's hand descended on his arm, swinging him around. The water was running steadily from the faucet, a background noise that encouraged either of them to shut it off and not allow such waste. Raito smiled at Lawliet as if he were not on the receiving end of an extremely pointed look. "You're going to help me with the dishes?" he said in mock delight as he set the mug down. "How thoughtful!"

The grip on his arm increased. "What's on Sunday?"

Raito gave him an indulgent look. "If you aren't involved, it's none of your business, now _is it_?"

Anger snapped over Lawliet's face, and it was breathtaking.

_To be able to affect you so strongly..._

Even the sting of a blow across Raito's cheek did not diminish his fascination with the dark-haired man's reaction, nor the exciting feel of his jealousy. Lawliet's slight frame was nearly humming with tension, nearly bursting with his need to take back his claims of being busy if only to keep Misa at bay, yet he was unwilling to take that step backwards and relent. His dark eyes were like glowing coals, and Raito had no doubt that Lawliet would have struck out at him again in frustration had Raito not grabbed hold of his wrists.

"Just come with me then on Sunday," Raito offered amiably, reeling Lawliet in closer. "You can put off whatever it was you had planned, can't you?" The key was to give Lawliet a way out without giving him a way out. Provide a way for him to give in without relenting. "Please, Lawliet?" He braved leaning closer into the detective's taut body, putting his lips close to the pale column of his throat. The skin was sensitive there, he knew. "I'd rather it was you," he said, nuzzling Lawliet's neck and breathing in the scent of him.

Really, wasn't his reluctant lover just training him to be as demanding as before? This whole asking and waiting for an unknown answer thing seemed to work against them.

"What are you planning to do?" Lawliet's voice wavered. Caught on the touch of lips on skin, perhaps? Or was it uncertainty?

_Right now? Or on Sunday?_ Lawliet's question could be taken to mean either thing. Or both. However, he probably intended the latter. "Just say yes, and you'll find out for yourself." Raito found that his voice was becoming more warm, more solicitous than he'd tried to make it. An effect of being pressed up against the object of his desire...?

He nipped slightly at the tantalizing flesh of Lawliet's neck, arms snaking around him. It seemed a waste to continue to restrain the detective when his own hands could be put to better use... trailing up the naked curve of Lawliet's back, for instance. Or caging the other man as he was half-heartedly pushed away, though Raito felt the shudder that ran through his slim body as his mouth began to draw upon that pale throat.

It must rankle him so, Raito mused hazily, that touch and pleasure could override thought and logic in such ways. It was something that he himself was still getting used to, and he almost felt bad for exploiting it in the other man and making it harder for the intellectual to deal with.

"Raito..." Lawliet's voice was thin. "Are we that interchangeable?"

Raito pulled back to look at him, to examine him after such unexpected words. Lawliet's eyes were clenched shut and his hands were balled into fists. "What are you saying? Of course you aren't." Why on earth would he even come to that conclusion?

"Don't make it sound so simple!" the detective bit out. "How else am I to take it when your plans would not change either way?"

"I never said that was the case."

"Then it's what you would lead me to believe," Lawliet snapped, pushing away from Raito. "God, I can't believe that with someone like you, I-"

Whatever the rest of the thought was, it was lost as it dropped into muttering and Lawliet vacated the kitchen.

"With someone like me, what?" Raito called out, starting after him. As an afterthought, he rushed back to the sink to slam the faucet off, cursing the amount of time it had been left running unnoticed. "Hey! Lawliet-!

* * *

L went straight for Raito's bedroom, grabbing his clothes and putting them on with precision borne of irritation. The routine was becoming almost familiar - sex, sleep, fight, get dressed, storm out.

_'That with someone like you, I...'_

Thank god he had not finished that half-cocked thought aloud. It was with dawning horror that he realized what he'd been about to say, and that had really set him off. The cliché of it was abominable. Sickening.

_...fell in love._

Fall in love? Love? He didn't even _like_ Raito half the time! How had this insane thought violated the sanctity of his mind? And it _was_ insane, so insane that he feared recent events must have pushed him off of the deep end. And what would he do? Could he perform his job if he were mentally impaired? Had Raito taken even his means of making a living away from him? What would he tell Watari?

He was startled back into the present as he was spun around to face the source of all of his more pressing troubles.

"Are you listening to me?" Raito said in exasperation.

"Ah... no?" L said, taken completely off guard. How bad was it when you couldn't even hear someone speaking to you?

Raito's hands were grasping his shoulders as if to keep him from flitting off. "I was intentionally misleading before," the brunet said reluctantly. "But I did not think you would take it in quite the way you did."

There was a long stretch of silence where Raito's red-gold eyes stared at him with intensity, as if willing him to understand or accept something, though they were as sharp and unreadable as a cougar's.

L stared back, more confused than ever. "Is this supposed to be an apology of some sort? I'm at a loss."

Raito looked as if he were about to start grinding his teeth. "The reason that plans would not change much on Sunday is because it involves my family and unnecessary birthday festivities, of which I am supposed to be unaware."

A tension that had been crackling just beneath L's skin began to dissipate. "Supposed to be unaware?"

"My sister likes to try and surprise me."

"But...?" L asked.

"She is not very good at it, it's painful to watch, and I feel obligated to indulge her with a reaction. The most useful gift I could receive at this point is the promise I won't have to deal with any of this again in the future. I've asked them all to cease such celebration, as I hardly feel I should be congratulated on not strangling myself in the womb, or managing not to die for another whole year..."

"..." L couldn't find anything appropriate to say to all of that. "I do believe, with that, my world outlook appears to be a brighter, cheerier thing than yours." He paused. "I hope you realize how alarming that is."

"Nonsense." Raito patted his shoulder with mock encouragement and said, "You should be happy - you're doing better than you thought."

L had nothing but a baleful glare in response to that.

"So... are you accepting my apology?" Raito prompted.

"What apology?" L said. "You haven't actually apologized for anything."

"Yes, I did," the brunet insisted lightly, a mischievous smile lurking behind his schooled expression. "Perhaps you weren't listening?"

L wasn't sure how or why but Raito was slipping into one of his playful moods. _God have mercy on my poor, neglected soul. _

"Of course I've been paying attention," L said in exasperation.

Funny though, he felt relieved. Raito's moods were still so capricious to him, and he disliked the feeling of drowning intensity that swamped him when they argued. He was never sure if he would, at some word or action, be forced to just walk away, judging things beyond hope or beyond his skill to deal with. The prospect seemed less and less viable as time passed. Granted, that might be his newfound insanity speaking.

"Good, then you also recall agreeing to accompany me on Sunday?" Smirk.

"What?" L could practically have seen something like this coming, and yet he couldn't help his reaction. "No, I most certainly did _not._"

"Come now, Lawliet. Your eyes glazed over with anticipation at the mere mention of it, how could you forget that?"

"Horror," L corrected, annunciating each syllable to utmost effect. "Glazed with _horror_." Speaking of insanity... what was it he'd thought while trapped at the dinner table with Raito's family not so long ago? Oh yes. That they were all crazy, the sister was likely crazy, that Raito was the cause of it all, _and_ that it was likely **contagious**. "Why do you want to torture me? I didn't enjoy it the last time I spent over there."

"What about after?" the brunet said suggestively.

L felt the color rise in his cheeks. _He was shameless!_ Actually daring to wink at him as well! "The reckless driving, the fear for my life, or you threatening the well-being of my cell phone?"

Raito tilted his head as if to consider. "I do believe you left quite a lot of other things out." He smiled benignly, all haloed innocence and light. "For instance, the cause of that blush..." he indicated the one currently riding L's face. "If you've forgotten the specifics, I'm sure I could recount it to you in exorbitant detail." The smile widened, becoming less angelic and more demonic by the second. "After all, I have a _vivid_ memory."

"My memory is flawless, so it is quite unnecessary-"

"Oh, where should I begin?" Raito mused. "In the car, outside of my parent's house? Hmm... but then there was a _before_ and _after_ we actually went inside..."

L bit his lip. He was being made painfully aware of how thoroughly he'd pushed certain things from his mind.

Oh, the many times he'd almost died of mortification in the brunet's presence... The many heady, scandalous kisses, the roving hands, and the cloying, disorienting feeling of lust... The car, it would start there, then surely Raito would mention trapping him in his parent's bathroom, set on ravishing him then and there despite L's pleas. After that, there were far too many instances that had occurred in this very house... so many instances of skin against skin, the sinful pleasure of hot, naked flesh and hotter mouths...

"It seems perhaps you do remember," Raito murmured as his hand slipped beneath L's chin, tilting his face up to receive a debilitating kiss.

There was absolutely nothing chaste about it, every movement being as dirty and provocative as possible - smearing that angelic image Raito liked to play out. Any halo he might have worn would have tarnished, blackened and crumbled down upon them.

"Shall I continue?" Raito asked in a roughened voice, lavishing attention upon L's neck in a way that was making it difficult to keep his knees from buckling. "Or are you going to keep making such irresistible faces?"

L flushed. "I-I'm not..." Had something shown on his face? He hadn't meant it to, but remaining stone-faced while recalling such intimacies was difficult, even for him. "And no, do _not_ continue, I don't want to hear it!"

"You don't want to know what you sound like when you c-?"

"NO." L cut him off by clapping his hands over Raito's sensuous mouth.

His eyes were laughing.

Raito shrugged, and lapped at the palm of L's hand with a flick of his clever tongue. L recoiled in violated surprise, clutching his hand to his chest.

Raito smirked in triumph. "No? Then do something **I** want, Lawliet."

"...what?" L asked cautiosly.

"Suffer my family with me," Raito said in dramatic entreaty. "Can you not see it as a sign of favor that I would ask _you_ to do it instead of someone else?"

"Not really, no," L said stubbornly. _Sign of favor, my ass. I'm probably just more fun to torture._

"My sister always asks if Misa is coming..." L twitched. _Misa._ He'd heard that name more than enough to last him a lifetime. _Now I have to compete with her not only for Raito, but for Raito's family's approval as well?_ "But I don't think she actually likes her," Raito finished. His eyes roved over L's face, drinking in whatever traces of frustrated jealousy L was unable to keep from manifesting. "I'm sure she'd like you, though."

"Is that supposed to convince me? I'm still reeling from the announcement you made at dinner the last time - that you were sleeping with me!"

"Too direct? I'm sorry, it just sort of popped out."

"See that just now?" L said, ignoring the ludicrous notion of something like that just 'popping out' in favor of making a point. (Besides, dwelling upon things like that, he'd just get a headache.) "_**That**_ was what one would consider an apology." _Though not a very good one..._

It was a not-so-subtle demand for a remedy of the failed apology from earlier.

Raito gave him an imperious look. "Very well. I apologize, Lawliet, for trying to make you jealous in an attempt to secure your attendance at my parents' house tomorrow night when I _should_ have just found a way to force you into it in the first place, instead of asking you, which might have saved us both a lot of unnecessary trouble."

"..." And so L found himself unable to say anything in response. It was just too impressively riddled with _wrong_ that he couldn't even touch it; he wouldn't have known where to begin. Instead, he announced that he was going home to deal with his migraine and agreed to anything that would let him do just that.

* * *

TBC

:D


	14. Skeletons in the Closet

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 14

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N: **Hello! Long time, no see!  
Pressing matters are the bane of fic writers everywhere. They munch up all the precious time that could be better used supporting the cause, and makin' the boys get nekkid. Damn you, pressing matters, damn you. :S

(*ETA* 5-10-11 fixed some formatting)

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 14: (Skeletons in the Closet)

"Twenty-four thousand, nine hundred and sixty six," L said.

He'd crunched the numbers; he knew he was right.

"Sixty seven," the infuriating man across from him replied.

L felt his lips twist in a surge of irritation. "You're questioning my calculations by a number of _one_?"

"Should it be more?" the client asked gratingly. "I thought you stood by the accuracy of your calculations?"

"I do. I also stand by my assessments..." L rose from his seat. "And, judging by your lack of cooperation, you obviously do not wish to move forward." He gave the man a scathingly bland look. "As such, you are wasting my time." The client looked slightly surprised, his mouth falling open a bit, turning to the blond man standing next to him as if to ask him what went wrong.

L spared a glare at Aiber, who was acting the part of a stunned business partner, as he slouched towards the door.

_Honestly._ What was wrong with people these days? Why bother hiring someone when you don't intend to let them do their job in the first place?

"I'm sorry. I'll talk to him." L could hear Aiber telling the client as he pushed out the door. Talk? Did he appear to be in a nonsensical rage that could be talked down? He was perfectly calm and unerringly logical. Only now he was also extremely aggravated.

"L!"

L ignored him. He disliked working with Aiber anyway.

The building exit was looking quite lovely the closer he got to it. In addition to that, it was Germany that lurked outside those double doors and a tempting little hole-in-the-wall bakery was less than a 10 minute walk away. He'd passed it twice now and was itching to try it out. Their sign outside the door promised over twelve varieties of chocolate cake alone. Who could resist?

He was being the paradigm of a hard-working detective to leave that be while he met with clients. _And for what?_ he wondered balefully as Aiber's half-running footsteps finally caught up with him, intent on ruining his day.

"Please refrain from touching me, Aiber-san."

The Aryan man had a propensity for being grabby, which baffled and annoyed L by turns. He also had a tendency not to listen to even the most reasonable of requests, and so his hand remained solidly affixed to L's arm.

"We're not in Japan right now, L. Call me Aiber."

"Force of habit," L said unapologetically. They had been in Japan, where he had first met Aiber, until just last week. "And hardly the point. What is it you wish to talk to me about?" His tone was loosely in the range of civility, but certainly not inviting. Actually, it bordered on acerbic. "I'll give you one minute and 32 seconds to convince me you weren't coaching the client."

L eyed Aiber critically and did in fact note a look of amusement about his rugged face.

Aiber shrugged. Shrugged! Then he had the audacity to smile.

"Gah!" So the client _**was**_ only acting as a mouthpiece for Aiber's annoying script which was crafted to push L's buttons in a way the stranger couldn't have managed on his own. "I _knew_ you were the only one who could come up with such useless..." L broke off and also forcefully removed his arm from the blond man's grip. "But surely even you would have a reason for it?"

"Aside from seeing how immensely entertaining you can be when things don't go your way?"

L scowled, counting to ten before speaking. "Aiber, he's a mutual client..."

"Not exactly."

"What does that mean?" _And here comes some angle he'd have been working on the side, I'd wager..._

"It means, I am acting as a consultant. I'm very good at what I do, so not only do I know a top class detective like L, I know how to deal with his eccentricities and can guide my client through the sticky process of securing you on our case."

"Uh-huh," L said critically, "and I suppose this recent scare will allow you to charge more?"

"Of course," Aiber said with a flashy smile. "But you stand to profit as well since we are splitting the-"

"It's not worth the irritation." L continued down the hall.

"What?" Aiber laughed, somewhat mirthlessly, as he kept pace. "L, come on, you can't quit now."

L had the urge to kick him. Just for being an idiot. He most certainly could quit now. _This sense of urgency is your own doing and not my problem. _Besides, he'd warned Aiber about involving him in things like this. _I'm a detective, not a show pony._

L said flatly, "I suggest that, if you are in need of a detective for these games, you start looking elsewhere fast or become one yourself. I'm finished."

Sadly, L never did quite remember the chocolate cake he ate that day, only the amount of the rather hefty bill. Irritation was a fearsome force indeed.

* * *

_Ah flashbacks_, L thought idly, chewing on a peppermint stick. _Mostly just good for showing us where we went wrong._

This particular flashback demonstrated Aiber's penchant for being annoying even back then, as well as reminding L of some words said that he would _dearly _love to take back.

_'Become one yourself' __**indeed**_. Who could've known how that would come back to bite him? And with such repetition. With the title of 'Detective' under his belt, Aiber had ascended to the ranks of the nearly intolerable.

"So, tell me again why you think I have any reason to be talking to you right now?" L said.

Irritating nature notwithstanding, Aiber's attempt to lick his tonsils had made L even less enamored of him than before.

It was a fit of insanity, surely, that made L agree to speak to the addle-brained Nazi. L still maintained the sanctity of his cell phone however, refusing to relinquish its number and opting instead for an online video conference. Audio only. He made Aiber stare at his signature 'L', but in turn, he was forced to stare at Aiber's stupid, monolithic 'A'.

This was not what ranked as fun on a Saturday evening, or any evening, as far as L was concerned.

It was the subject line that did it, really. Short and cryptographic messages weren't really Aiber's style, but the one-liner was an attention-getter.

'I know about the locked room.'

_Do you now?_ And how might Aiber have come across something like that? L crunched on his peppermint stick, staring blankly at the 'A' as he mulled over his options. Let it go and be rid of Aiber, or...

_Damn my infernal curiosity._

"Your curiosity won't let you ignore something like this," Aiber responded smugly. "You would have already known about the room, having frequented the location itself, and been wondering how you might discover what is inside."

_Damn him._ "That would be an invasion of privacy," L stated in a dull, bored voice.

"Would that really be of consequence if you could get inside, unnoticed?"

L chewed on his lip. The thought had occurred. Raito, of course, would not excuse such an undertaking, being an extremely secretive sort of person... However, the brunet also willfully disregarded other people's privacy, which almost _begged_ for something like this to happen to him. Plus... he didn't have to know.

L just wanted a peek. He just wanted a quick look around to lay his curiosity about the room to rest and put an end to the itching feeling of wanting **in** there. He wanted some of Raito's secrets. He wanted enlightenment. He wanted... to see if those damn coasters were hiding in there.

"You are as lacking in moral fiber as I remember, Aiber."

_Stay strong, L. Resist temptation. _As much as he may have liked to be privy to the Oz behind the curtain, L knew that to take such action, he must be prepared for both the findings and the potential consequences. Raito... would be furious.

"Don't you want to know more about his sordid past and present before you get even more involved?"

"What exactly are you saying?" Did Aiber know how involved they actually were? If so, the con man was, as of yet, being much too easy-going for him not to be up to something. This was starting to feel bad. Very bad.

Not only that, to be beholden to Aiber for anything was not an option. Situations like this needed a big neon sign that said: Avoid at all costs. Danger. Explosions likely...

"I'm saying that I have a confidant and a way in."

"I'm not interested."

"Good intelligence says that he will be out this evening."

"Aiber," L said more assertively, disliking the way he was getting pulled in as an unwitting accomplice. "I'm not interested."

"Oh, but **I** _am_." The man paused and L could sense the smugness that would be rolling off of him in waves. "When I go in, I plan to fully extort every incriminating little bit of_ everything_ I find."

He let L's shocked outrage sink in a little and allowed the weight of what he was saying to rest heavily on L's shoulders before continuing. "If, however, you accompany me..." Aiber said in a soft, sly voice, "we can keep it between us."

'Between us' sounded an awful lot like Aiber was going to try jumping him again. L would rather have his teeth pulled out than court that disaster with a 10-foot pole.

L pinched the bridge of his nose. But _shit_! Aiber already didn't like Raito and, boss or no, he would lose nothing from trying to ruin him. _Shouldn't I do something to counteract this situation? ...but it's Raito's fault if he's done such shady things that he could be brought down by them,_ L thought stubbornly. _It's not my duty to protect him from himself._

"How did you even know about it?" L kept his voice bland and hoped that Aiber would answer before demanding _his_ answer. "I can't imagine that you've been inside..."

"Ah, yes," Aiber drawled, "Well, it is amazing what loose tongues libations and flirtation can give a person. Though Misa told me infinitely more from the comfort of her bed."

"You didn't!" L was appalled. Had Aiber slept with her that night? Merely to gain such information? _Am I the only person who takes issue with such behavior anymore?_

"Some of the best stuff came after the first few hours," Aiber said. "How would you like to bet that _you_ are the mysterious person taking her precious Raito away from her? She cried, you know."

L gaped, not knowing what to say. First off, he neither needed nor wanted details on Aiber's sex life. Second, the guy was a bastard for trying to make him feel bad for Misa. A total bastard. Because it was sort of working. He had a half-formed and completely inane urge to ask Raito if he hadn't meant to break up with her.

Aiber _tsk tsked_ then. "I can't believe you're getting in the way of true love like this, L. It's rather disgraceful of you."

L's eye began to twitch. _True love? You've got to be kidding me._ "I wasn't aware you subscribed to such notions, _Aiber_."

"It's hard to argue that they make a beautiful couple, and I cannot quite envision you on his arm smiling for the cameras."

"You're right on both accounts." L gritted his teeth, finding it difficult to tell the man that he was right about anything whatsoever, even if it was going to be followed by a counterargument. "However, it seems as if this 'true love' might be one-sided." And it was, if Raito's attitude towards her or his habit of laying L out on his back and rendering him incapable of speech were any indication. "In addition, it is obvious that society would not be as accepting of two males in the limelight, so such a couple could hardly be expected to act in the identical manner as a heterosexual one."

"So you've given it some thought," Aiber said smoothly. "That just proves you feel out of place."

"No, that just proves you are being irritating and _wasting my time_."

"If you like him so much, I'm surprised you'd be willing to watch him go down in flames when you have a chance to stop it - just by being in the right place at the right time."

"It has nothing to do with me!"

Aiber laughed. "It won't look that way to him when I'm done with it. You _are_ involved, no matter which way you look at it, L. I'll let you have a little more time to decide whether you want to keep his image and career intact or not."

It was Saturday night, and L was having even less fun than before.

* * *

After some deliberation, L decided that going along with Aiber might be the worst thing he could do when it came to keeping himself intact.

If _'keeping it between us'_ wasn't meant to imply physical relations now, it well could in the future. With the added information that they would gain by raiding that room, Aiber would surely have ample blackmail material with which to bend L to his whims. Of course, this would only be successful if L were unwilling to let Raito be at Aiber's mercy. Conversely, if L were to find something that made him wish to sever ties with Raito, Aiber would have one less obstacle in his way.

In time, the blond man might worm his way into every little corner of L's life that he could, counting on L to give into him versus expending the enormous amount of energy it would take to keep him at bay. First his phone, then his address, then his work... _and at some point in all of that, would be the gross violation of my personal space._

If something like that were to happen, L thought, he may have to look into purchasing a gun.

L didn't believe that the man would go so far as to kiss him, only to leave things at that. Aiber was likely only just getting started.

_Ugh. Why me?_

It didn't make any sense for Aiber to desire him physically. Or to like him personally for that matter.

The man was a pompous, disagreeable sort, and L was not given preferential treatment; of that he was sure. Still, even had Aiber attempted being nice, L still could not imagine wanting to bask in his company, or doing anything_** else**_ for that matter.

L stared at his cell phone. He'd also decided that he should contact Raito and make him aware of the possibility of a break in. It was... an unhappy task to undertake. There would be all manner of questions, and the potential for unpleasantness was high. Despite this, he found he wanted to give Raito a fighting chance. It was the least he could do.

L pulled up Raito's contact information in his phone and hovered over the send button. Aiber had said the brunet was 'out'. Could it be something work-related? It seemed that those in politics liked to dine out and discuss their business there.

L chewed on his lip speculatively. He disliked the idea of disrupting negotiations or otherwise intruding... but certainly this situation merited an interruption? "Right." He pressed the button and fidgeted as the call rang through.

"Hello, this is Raito-"

L felt annoyed and relieved at the same time. Voicemail. He'd only called Raito once before and talking on the phone was an awkward prospect, so he couldn't say he was disappointed not to have to do so, especially in light of the information he had to convey... but at the same time, this was kind of important and there was something of a deadline on the table.

"-leave a message after the tone." Beeeeeeep.

L considered just hanging up, trusting that Raito would call him back when he saw the missed call, but that felt like insufficient effort on his own part.

"Raito... this is L."

What to say? He couldn't launch into things on a message, and he did not trust that a summary in 20 words or less would come out right.

"Please call me back," he added, hanging up.

_I should've said 'It's important', _he thought dourly, staring at his phone. He considered calling back to add that minutiae but couldn't bring himself to. _That will have to suffice._

He brought up some of his current cases to poke at while the situation resolved itself.

* * *

L was actually quite absorbed in the Schiller case when a familiar noise crept into the precision of his thoughts. His hand groped around the desk on automatic-pilot while he read, discovering his ringing phone and answering the call with the push of a button, all without the assistance of conscious thought. His mouth reflexively said 'Hello?' as the phone was brought to his face.

"Lawliet? You wanted to speak with me?"

That voice jarred L out of the lulling drift of analytical thoughts, surprising him with both the presence of the phone and that he had no idea what time it was.

"Yes, I did," L said, glancing at the clock on his computer. It was nearly midnight? What had become of Aiber? This was many hours after he had spoken to the man and been given time to make his decision. Had he aborted this plan since he did not gain the sort of cooperation he sought?

"To what do I owe this honor? It's not like you to call."

"Were you out at a work function this evening?" L asked, buying time while he considered his options. If Aiber had decided to forgo his breaking-and-entering, then it would not be in his or Raito's best interest to mention it. It could have all the ill-effects that the thing itself would have caused, barring the destruction of Raito's image, and with no additional effort on Aiber's part. L would be doing the work for him - causing a rift in their already tenuous relationship. Was _**this**_ Aiber's _true_ plan?

"Yes," Raito responded. "Why?"

"Was Misa there?" That would explain how Aiber had known he would be out - if Misa herself would be in attendance...

Raito was silent a few moments. "Would it matter if she was?"

L frowned as he came back out of detective mode, which he'd been slipping into. Raito sounded displeased. He shouldn't have asked about Misa - she was a sore subject - but she provided a missing piece to the puzzle.

"Not overtly, no," L answered his question in the most diplomatic way he could. "I realize that she is a part of your work, for some reason, and that you cannot choose to merely stop seeing her."

_Seeing her? I meant to say 'associating with her'. I didn't intend to make it sound like they were dating..._

"It isn't that I _can't_ choose..." Raito sounded vexed. "It's that it is -"

"Complicated," L interrupted, finishing the sentence for him. "I know." He'd heard that line enough by now to recognize it in the making. "But it seems that she idolizes you and may be thinking of you as her 'one true love'."

_Since when did I start using second-hand information from shady sources like Aiber in my impromptu interrogations?_ Not that Misa wasn't obviously infatuated...

"I am painfully aware of that fact," Raito sighed tiredly and L had the impression that he was rubbing a hand over his eyes. "But this is not the reason you called me, is it?"

"...no," L reluctantly agreed. Aiber must have abandoned his plan. And even if he used Misa as an informant, she was unaware that Raito would be out tomorrow to spend time with his family, so she would be unable to relay such to Aiber... He'd have no reason to forestall the intrusion to a day where he was uncertain of his victim's schedule.

"Is this about tomorrow?" Raito asked, annoyance creeping into his tone.

"Sort of?" It was as good an excuse as any. He silently thanked Raito for providing it.

"Lawliet, it won't be nearly as painful as you are imagining." His voice became mildly placating as he added, "And if somehow it is, then I promise we won't stay long."

"Is that all right?" L was skeptical. "It's in the spirit of your birthday... shouldn't you be there for it?"

"I've told you my opinion on that already. It is more for them than for me, so if you find things to be beyond enduring, we don't have to stay."

"And what then?" L asked, feeling anxious. It seemed that evenings with Raito often turned out the same way... not that being intimate wasn't enjoyable, but it was nerve-wracking and sort of barred anything resembling intelligent conversation. Sex was not conducive to a wide vocabulary, he'd discovered, nor the faculties with which to use one.

There was a calculating pause on the other end.

"We can do whatever you would like." The words sounded innocently indulgent, yet had a silky undertone that L couldn't quite miss.

L ignored the weak fluttering in his stomach and his immediate speculations on what was _likely_ to occur, planned or not. For gods sake! You'd think that frequency of a thing would make it less desirable, but he found Raito to be as stimulating as ever. _Though I would like to bear witness to the ways in which he might stimulate my _**brain**_ sometime in the near future..._

"I would very much like to challenge you to a game of Chess, Shogi, or Go..." L announced staunchly. "Whichever you prefer."

"I'm sure that could be arranged," Raito's voice smiled. "Your mind has always held great interest for me. I'll look forward to becoming more thoroughly acquainted with it."

_Always... and we haven't even known each other that long..._

A strategical board game couldn't turn into sex, could it? L wondered. Because Raito made it sound like it would when _he_ played.

_...Maybe I should've asked him out for coffee instead..._

* * *

After the initial greeting, when Raito picked L up on Sunday, the two had passed the time in silence.

It was not a hostile silence, nor an angry one that made the car ride seem like a small eternity, but a sort of silence that was hard to quantify. L refrained from looking at Raito too closely. Aiber's threat was still munching away at the back of his mind, making him generally unsettled. He didn't want the brunet to pick up on it, though Raito might assume it to be L's reluctance to experience more quality time with the Yagami family and their quirks.

Then again, that explained nothing of his companion's silence, and L had to admit that that was eating away at him as well.

At times like this, he wished he knew more about the brunet.

_It feels like I know him... I can even anticipate him to some extent - yet I lack for details. _

Even if he wanted to engage in small talk in an effort to gauge the mood, where would he start? The things he knew about were hardly things he wished to discuss... Aiber: always a bad topic; Misa: a touchy subject that was nearly guaranteed to start an argument; Raito's work: tricky, in that it always seemed to come back to what things the brunet was willing to do in the name of work which was sure to devolve into fighting as well. L also did not feel like launching into an account of his own work, or himself for that matter, and starting a philosophical discussion didn't seem appropriate...

"Raito, what is your favorite color?"

It sounded as stupidly pointless aloud as it had in L's head. L scrunched deeper into the seat with indifference painted across his face and told himself that the point was to gain a response and nothing more. This was not a test of his conversational skills. He looked over at the brunet from the corner of his eye.

Raito was staring at the road and seemed not to have heard him, though L was certain he had. He waited.

"Might I know your reason for asking?" Raito asked after a while, his expression not changing. It bore the slight frown of distraction but was otherwise rather blank.

"It's a simple question," L said, turning to face him. "Do you find it inappropriate in some way?"

"You can tell a lot about someone with simple questions such as that and the reasoning behind them. I wonder how I should answer."

"I wasn't asking in an attempt to profile you."

"No? That's a shame, I was under the impression you always thought like a detective."

L sighed and faced forward again. _It's official. I suck at starting conversations._ His eyes drifted then to the passenger side window and he watched the trees slide by in flickers between the cars around them. It was a little depressing if he could not even discover a simple thing like this, when he was asking without artifice. But perhaps Raito did not have a favorite color?

"I suppose I favor black," Raito offered after a while, tossing the statement out as if disowning it.

"Why?" L asked, assured that there was a reason. He hadn't originally planned to delve into it, but since Raito had clearly expected him to, there was no reason to quell his curiosity. The irony that his own attire was largely black these days when he left the house, and his hair as well, was not lost on L. He wondered if Raito was merely saying so without any conviction.

"It doesn't clash with anything," Raito said flippantly, making it obvious that if there were a reason, that would most certainly not be it. "And what about you?"

"I hadn't really thought about it," L said honestly. "White, maybe?" He had a closet full of his old white shirts to attest to some preference for the color. "I do find it interesting that white is the true absence of color, whereas many people assume that that would be black."

"Hm," Raito said, his eyes still largely on the road. His profile was as striking as always, down to the subtle curve of his perfect nose and the long lashes that framed his warmly colored eyes. L tried not to focus on his lips, though watching them move was always infinitely fascinating. "Yet white light is formed when you combine all the colors of light in the visible spectrum in equal proportion, so you cannot claim that white itself is entirely colorless."

"There is that as well," L agreed, distractedly noting that Raito was wearing white. It was odd that they would be wearing each other's color of choice - auspicious, maybe - but that made it all the more likely that one of them was not being forthcoming. "Either way, white goes well with jeans," he added, in line with Raito's earlier comment.

"I've seen that you wear primarily black. Why might that be?"

L chewed thoughtfully on the inside of his lip. He didn't exactly want to admit that it was because the salespeople who had picked out his clothing had insisted that black was a good choice. Because then he would be admitting that he couldn't even do so much as be fashionable on his own. Not that he would normally care, but in the presence of the ever-immaculately-dressed Raito, it would be like a normal adult male saying that his mother still picked out his clothes. It was not advantageous to relay that level of detail.

"I've been told that it is a good color for me," he said ambiguously. L couldn't say he agreed with their assessment, but what did he know?

Raito, of course, looked striking in any color he wore. Maybe it had something to do with his complexion and the sun-kissed tone of his skin, whereas L was so pale he was nearly white. Yes... the white, collared shirt that Raito wore fit like it was tailored specifically for him to wear, and the two undone buttons at the top allowed for a small peek at his beautiful collarbones.

Why _was_ Raito so attractive? It shouldn't even be legal.

"Then maybe you shouldn't wear black," the brunet said.

"Because it looks bad?" L looked up in confusion. Surely that was what he was saying, not that he would somehow be jealous over him?

Raito's eyes flicked to his, then back to the road again. "Because it _doesn't_ look bad," he corrected.

"Ah."

"You stand out too much, Lawliet," Raito said, quietly enough that he might have been talking to himself. "I wish you wouldn't draw attention to yourself."

"My normal attire draws more, I assure you."

Raito glanced at him again. "And did Aiber take it upon himself to kiss you _then_?"

_Uh oh._ Raito had uttered the taboo: 'Aiber', as well as an augmentation - the verb 'kiss'. The brunet looked somewhat surly now, his lips twisting in a sneer.

"No, he did not," L said. "That was something without precedence, and there are any number of factors that might have facilitated it. I highly doubt that a liking for clothing could make someone act so differently."

"Not by itself, it wouldn't, but Aiber was obviously in a position to be further enticed."

_Enticed?_ _Is he still claiming I did something to bring about Aiber's actions? _"If anyone is prone to enticing others, it would be you," L said flatly. "I certainly don't have that skill in my arsenal."

Raito brought the car to a stop. The light had changed and they were now sitting in a turning lane. His eyes flashed and he leaned across the seat into L's. "Oh, but you do," the brunet said threateningly, threading a firm hand into L's dark hair, making L's heart start to pound nervously in his chest. He pulled L's head back sharply and hovered over his lips. "Don't tell me you didn't realize?"

L shook his head and winced at the tug on his hair. Saltiness pricked his eyes at the unrelenting pressure and the strained angle of his neck. He felt anxiousness filtering into his expression, despite his resistance.

"There," Raito said enigmatically, capturing his gaze with an even sharper one and laying a slow, deliberate kiss upon his lips. "That's the look."

L had a scattered whirlwind of thoughts that were half caught in trying to think back on whether he might have made such a face when he'd been with Aiber that night, and half violent worry that Raito himself found such unsettled looks to be enticing. It was like a throw-back to all of the times he'd feared Raito to be maladjusted, and possibly a sociopath. When the brunet was acting 'normal' it was easy to forget.

"That's the look that makes me want to take you apart from the inside," Raito murmured, staring at his lips like a hunter gazes at its prey.

L felt his throat constrict and it was with great effort that he said, "T-The light is green."

That heavy gaze left him, but L could feel its effects long after he remembered to breathe.

* * *

"Raaaaaaaaito!" a young woman cheered as Raito and L entered the Yagami household. She bounced up to him, her ponytail dancing, enveloping him in an enthusiastic hug which he did not return.

"Hello, Sayu," Raito said in a near deadpan voice. He gave off the impression of a cat barely tolerating having its fur rubbed the wrong way. "Is university proving too easy for you that you have such ample time to waste at home?"

"Is that all you have to say to your gorgeous little sister?" Sayu pouted.

"And which sister might that be?" Raito responded offhandedly.

"MOM!" Sayu called out, frowning mightily as she released him. "Raito's being a jerk again!"

She didn't seem overly hurt though, if her smirk at Raito's put-upon sigh was any indication.

"Don't start, you two," Sachiko called back. "Sayu, honey, help set the table and let your brother come inside, for goodness sake."

Sayu made a noise of annoyance and trudged out of the entryway and into the dining room.

"My sister," Raito presented in a solemn whisper, with a courtly bow.

Surprisingly enough, L caught no traces of amusement in his expression. "You don't get along?" he ventured, becoming fascinated despite himself at the transformation Raito underwent as soon as he set foot into his family home. Gone was the nearly sinister persona he'd been with in the car until a few moments ago, which had been making his heart pound in his ears; in his place was someone who seemed much younger and far less worldly.

"Not exactly."

It was pointless to dwell upon what had happened in the car, or try to address it at this juncture, so L decided to put it off and act like nothing had happened. For now.

"Raito," mother Yagami called out. "Don't loiter, dear."

Another deep sigh from Raito as he removed his shoes. L did the same, minus the sigh; although he could certainly feel the need to express one, he did not feel it would be appreciated. He needed to take Raito's family with a grain of salt and a dose of stoic martyrdom.

Raito surprised him by pressing a kiss to his lips.

"What was that for?" L whispered in confusion, the touch lingering pleasantly upon his mouth.

"To give me strength," Raito said before stepping into the main room.

Oddly enough, in a short amount of time, L found himself to be developing an annoyance with Sayu that had a flavor suspiciously like jealousy. Not that that made any sense - they were siblings, after all. She was also basically pleasant, he supposed, wondering at his growing dislike, but she had yet to say much to him personally.

L pretended to chew on a piece of bread, watching the brunette girl hang onto Raito, rendering him unable to eat without great difficulty. All over again, he was irked by the seating arrangement which had him sitting as far away from Raito as possible at a table that sat 6. Sayu sat next to Raito, their mother sitting across from her, and L was seated on the end between the two of them.

Though Raito was directly across from his father, he was refraining from antagonizing him like last time, and was rather quiet on the whole.

"Here you go, dear," Raito's mother passed L a glass of wine from Raito's father.

"Thank you," L said, taking it with an inward sigh. He was not in the mood for libations, nor was he particularly hungry. He studied Raito, noting that he was refusing wine once more, though he most certainly drank it when he was not at home. But nothing was said on the matter this time around. Soichiro sipped his precious wine and conversed with his wife, while their two children carried on something of a conversation themselves. Not that Raito seemed to be enjoying it, but his face was looking the part. L himself felt like something tacked on at the last minute to this little group. He felt left out.

"L," Soichiro called over to him a little while later. "Would you like another glass?"

"No I..." L paused. He'd been about to say he was still working on his first glass, but realized it was actually empty. "I probably have work later tonight."

Soichiro waved off his excuse and Sachiko provided him with L's glass with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

"Enjoy yourself, L," the Chief of Police said heartily. "There is time enough for work later. You'll have a second glass under your belt and processed in no time. No need to worry about it interfering with the old job."

"Thank you, sir."

L dutifully sipped the wine, not sure what else to do, wondering how he'd managed to drink his first glass without noticing. He went back into his shell and listened to what Raito's side of the table was currently speaking about.

"So, John and Abel are both calling me, asking me out to this thing and that," Sayu was saying somewhat smugly, "and both thought I would rather spend time with either of _them_ than with my darling brother. They were positively devastated when I said they couldn't hold a candle to you." She laughed and squeezed his arm in a hug.

"Fascinating," Raito said drolly, carefully levering a fork towards his mouth in an attempt to eat dinner one-handed. Sayu seemed to have a direct correlation to the difficulty he was having in keeping food balanced upon it. "I'm sure you have all of them quite enthralled and desperate for even a little of your time." Raito nearly had the fork held to his lips, his mouth opening slightly, when Sayu knocked into him with a chaotic hug that toppled his prize back onto the plate.

He gave his sister a sour look.

"Onii-chan, you're so clumsy!" she exclaimed with an innocent look that was suspiciously similar to the one Raito liked to use. She giggled.

"I think you should date John," Raito said with finality.

"Whaaat?" Sayu whined. "John?"

"Don't you agree, L?" Raito said, catching his eye.

L was surprised to be included all of a sudden, but just having Raito focus on him for even a minute made him feel much less out of place. "If John is the one that Sayu likes..." he fumbled, wanting to please Raito with his agreement, but without being offensive to his sister since it was her life they were discussing.

Raito watched him like a cat watches a canary in a cage, but true amusement colored his eyes and the faint smile that quirked at the corner of his mouth. It had a warming effect that softened his face, though it was subtle.

Sayu must have glanced between them in that brief exchange before their eyes disengaged because L caught the tail end of a rather sharp, displeased look hurrying off of her face.

"I didn't realize someone else had been a part of our conversation," she said primly.

L winced internally. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, nor engage in the conversation in the first place, but...

"Sister dear," Raito said in a chiding tone, using the endearment as anything but, "you might have known had you allowed others the chance to speak."

Her cheeks pinkened in embarrassment, and she released Raito's arm so she could collect her poise. Her head dipped down. "I apologize for being so _uncouth,_" she said the last in a pointed fashion. She turned to L, the brief vision of her weakness dropping off of her like a discarded coat. "Rumor has it you are a good friend of Raito's. Might you care to elaborate on just how good of a friend you are?"

Something in her manner said she was intentionally trying to be confrontational.

"We only met a few weeks ago," L said with forced pleasantness, deciding that was the best tactic. That and being vague. He had no idea if Sayu was aware of the sort of relationship they had, and he did not need to be the one to offer up such surprises.

"I wonder then what you have been doing in that time," she said while examining her painted nails. "It seems to me that you are rather close."

L was amazed at some of the similarities brother and sister seemed to posses in their mannerisms and ways of orchestrating a situation to suit their needs. But whereas Raito was flawless, Sayu was still in training, and L was able to see her maneuvering. He was still at a loss of what to say, however.

L glanced at Raito to see if he might be able to offer some nuance that could aid him in what direction to take. The brunet was frowning, which was not helpful in the least.

"Raito~," Sayu sang, turning her attention to Raito once more with a smile that was much too bright to be real. Was she actually trying to taunt him? "Where is Misa Misa this evening? You always bring _her_ with you." It certainly seemed that way... although the backhand was clearly meant for L.

"She's busy," Raito said flatly, dropping all artifice. He tilted his head imperiously as he regarded his sister coldly. "And I suggest you mind your behavior when I bring a guest into our home, no matter what their relation is to me." Ice crisped the words and the slight smile that they were delivered with.

She blinked at him with wide brown eyes, suddenly looking all of 10 years old as she lost her pompous confidence.

"Sorry, Onii-san," she said in a cowed voice.

L thought he detected a hint of reluctant awe in her manner. It seemed that she looked up to Raito and possibly had even spent the years watching and imitating him, which would explain a lot. Of course, she'd just been shown up by the master, so that was likely to put her in a bit of a mood. If it were Raito in this situation, he'd be peeved; but Sayu was a different person, so there was no telling. Maybe she would just act depressed.

"Kids," Sachiko was saying lightly to herself, passing off the awkward moment. "What can you do?"

L hid behind his glass of red wine. Were all families this uncomfortable, or was it just the Yagami household?

Sayu excused herself from the table momentarily, looking like a forlorn pixie with her drooping ponytail. After she left the room, Raito beckoned him over.

L got up and tried not to shuffle across the carpet though his poor posture nearly demanded it.

He did not fancy the idea of sitting at Sayu's place, so he stood next to it, even though that clearly went against what Raito wanted him to do. Russet amber eyes were turned up to him, exerting pressure upon him to take the seat.

He did not.

"Lawliet," Raito intoned under his breath, too softly for his parents to overhear.

L was being _commanded_ to comply.

L shook his head and stared back at him willfully. "Sayu will be back at any time." He'd be damned if he was going to encourage more drama to head his way. In fact, his goal was to be as little noticed as possible, thus lessening the pain of this whole experience.

Raito sighed and spared a glance for his parents who were playfully arguing over something and were too preoccupied to notice them. "All right then, come with me," he said, rising from the table and snagging hold of L's arm.

L had to work to maintain his balance, temporarily, as Raito tugged him to the other side of the room.

The adjoining living room was darker, with an out-of-the-way feel and a sunken floor that made it almost seem as if it were part of another house. Dark brown leather furniture circled a stone fireplace, and plush throw rugs woven in subdued reddish hues lounged upon the glossy wood floor. The architecture afforded them a small place of privacy, as the beams that bracketed the room were extended beyond the walls to encourage the look of separation from the dining area. It was in the sheltered nook of one of these pillars that the tugging, pulling compromise to his balanced ceased, and his back met the wall.

"What is it, Rai-?"

The brunet cut him off with a deep kiss, taking L completely by surprise. It jittered through him, pinging his nerves and raising the fear that someone would see. Raito's parents knew about them, so that would be not so much a shock as embarrassing, but Sayu... L was half afraid the girl would turn into a flame-breathing dragon. Was it normal for siblings to be so monopolizing?

Raito's mouth devoured his heatedly, and he was reminded of the look that had been on the brunet's face in the car and the tone of his voice... The feeling that was telegraphed was possession, and L was becoming weak to it.

An arm snaked around L's waist, pulling him closer as sensation was frying his synapses. He shouldn't be pressed up against the brunet like this... certainly not here... but he could do nothing but let Raito consume him where he stood. It was sinful what Raito could do with his mouth alone.

"I'm sorry that Sayu is acting obnoxious," Raito murmured, breaking the contact in order to speak, but remaining close. "I really did not expect it." His breath feathered L's lips, distracting thought. Hovering there as if they might descend at any moment to steal his soul through his mouth.

"It's...fine..." What was he supposed to say? _Your sister __**is**__ acting like a possessive little brat?_

"She must've changed the seating as well," the brunet mused, breathing him in. "My parents would know better than to separate us."

L felt a little thrill at the notion that Raito would be irritated at being away from him. Was that a truthful statement he'd issued? But aside from that... "Raito... is there a reason your sister does not seem to know about us?"

There was a pause and Raito's beautiful eyes were evasive. "It's for the best."

"Even if no one told her," L insisted, "she seems to be figuring it out. So why-"

"Plausible deniability," Raito said, sinking him into another demanding kiss, ravaging him with lips and tongue and teeth and the poignant taste of forceful desire.

_Really,_ L thought in a haze as he was swept under against his will, Y_ou'd think he'd practically rape me here if he could get away with it. _Why was he always so demanding in such an inconvenient place as this? Was it linked to his desire to be in control? Did he really feel at such loose ends here as to exert his dominion in this way?

Not that it was any less affecting to have the brunet kissing him senseless.

Oh yes, his knees were threatening to buckle even now.

Raito certainly had a way of kissing him like they were on a bed somewhere, naked, and only breaths away from going further. It felt so thoroughly indecent and undeniably...erotic.

Raito pulled back again, with effort. "I'm sorry, Lawliet. It's just... she's driving me crazy with how she's trying to keep me from you." His voice was hushed and he was staring at L's lips as if enraptured. "I tend to get fixated and want to..." he trailed off.

"Want to what?" L asked, his pulse skipping, quickening in his chest. He was fairly sure he knew, but for some reason he wanted to hear Raito give voice to it.

But even as he watched, Raito's expression was shuttering and his eyes were dimming into something more acceptable for a wide audience. He was taking apart the mood between them like a mason deconstructing a wall brick by brick. It irked L as the distance between them widened and Raito became not-_his_ again.

"It's nothing." Raito offered him a fake smile. "If she throws a fit, that's fine. I'll not cater to her any longer."

He turned, leading the way back to the table and L had no choice but to follow. As they came back to the table, L noticed that Sachiko was giving them the eye. "Be mindful of what we talked about, Raito," she said.

Had she seen them just now?

"Yes, mother."

"And what was that?" Sayu asked suspiciously, sitting at her place at the table once more.

"Nothing, dear," Sachiko said, "eat your potatoes."

Was it Raito's mother who had decided their relationship should remain hidden? To what end? To shelter Sayu? Or was Raito correct in thinking it would cause a scene if his sister were to know about them for certain? He didn't know.

L took up residence in his seat, wondering how long dinner would possibly stretch out. He was contemplating this as Sayu once more grabbed Raito's attention, and as his cell phone buzzed against his leg.

L glanced at Raito, more than aware of the brunet's hatred of his phone, and communication with other people in general, and deemed him to be thoroughly tied up. He fished the phone out of his pocket.

He stared at the screen, unprepared. _Aiber?_

L's heart began to race, limping sickly in his chest. _He wouldn't... _Even the possibility that he might be doing what he'd told L he was going to do...

It was at that same moment that the doorbell rang.

L looked up; Raito looked suspicious; Sayu jumped up, singing, "I'll get it!"

She returned with a bashful, yet glowing blonde.

"Good evening, Yagami-san, Sachiko-san," she said politely, bowing to them both as she entered the room. "Good evening, Raito-kun." She blushed as she greeted the love of her life.

L was in a state of shock. Misa... MISA was in the Yagami family house and making eyes at Raito as if no one else was in the room.

"Aren't you happy, Onii-chan?" Sayu said in a gilded voice. "Misa Misa was able to make it after all."

* * *

_That little snot!_ Raito raged internally as his parents greeted Misa with surprise, though they were warm about it. Sayu stuck her tongue out at him as Misa wound herself about his arm. His sister wiggled her phone at him when no one else was looking to indicate that she had either called or texted the girl in order to bring about this monstrosity.

Sayu's eyes said she understood what Lawliet was to him, and that she would rather have Misa in that position, between the two.

_Lawliet..._

Raito felt his heart sinking through the floor as he contemplated the complications this would bring about. Just yesterday the dark-haired man had witnessed Misa throwing herself at him wearing nothing but a negligee.

Sometimes he dearly hated his sister.

However, when he looked, Lawliet seemed preoccupied with something. The glare that should have been in place was absent, and it was obvious that his mind was elsewhere...

* * *

L's hands were shaking as he thumbed through Aiber's message again.

_'Can you guess where I am right now?'_

_'You're not.'_ he texted back.

This couldn't be happening. Aiber was messing with him. He _had_ to be.

L kept his phone under the table, out of sight and inconspicuous. Raito glanced at him briefly, but L made a nonchalant production out of drinking some wine.

He jumped when his phone buzzed in his hand and nearly dropped it.

He fumbled the cellular device and pressed the buttons that would let him read the message. It appeared to be blank at first, with a title of _'Are you sure?'_ Seconds later, he saw that it was not blank, but was in fact a slowly downloading image that was inside the message. L wouldn't have recognized a picture of the secret room, having never seen it himself, but he did recognize the interior of Raito's living room as it revealed itself from the top down.

_Shit._

Aiber was _there_. He was actually _**there**_!

The foreboding that descended on L was like a thick, choking cloud. _What am I going to do?_

_'Leave now, you shouldn't be there.'_ he texted. _'Who knows what precautions he might have in place? He could arrest you.' _He hoped that mentioning incarceration might stay Aiber's hand, but he wasn't holding his breath.

"Misa-chan," Sayu said sweetly, "have you met Raito's 'friend' L?" She gave a small emphasis to the word friend - just enough set the word apart a little.

L glanced up.

Misa gave her a slightly questioning look, but seemed to shrug the thing off with the air of a princess. "We met just the other day," she replied, flashing the room a smile and looking congenial as hell. Sayu looked disappointed. "He's a detective that Raito was thinking about hiring." Misa cozied up to Raito and added, "Though I am not quite sure why he's _here_..."

L, distracted as he was, still found himself bristling.

Raito tried to free his arm from her nefarious clutches in a polite way, for some reason, which is likely why he had no success. L wanted to offer his own services in prying her off or perhaps removing her arms entirely, but he beat the lovely thought back into submission and held his peace.

"Actually, I've already decided to hire him," Raito said, sighing slightly as he gave up on his arm.

"You did?" L asked. This was news to him. Not only that, he'd been certain that the entire thing had been a ruse. So did this mean he was really going to be working for the brunet? He had a moment of panic. What would he do about his _real_ job?

"It's been agreed upon. I was going to tell you this evening."

_Wha...?_

"Oh, is that why?" Misa spoke up. "But usually you don't meet with people like that here... you go to one of your usual places to do business..."

"As Sayu so kindly mentioned," Raito said, "we are also friendly enough. I think it odd to have to set up a separate arrangement when it was more convenient to invite him here as a guest, don't you?"

Misa, in her tailored, stylish navy blue skirt-suit pouted. "I didn't know you were friends... I thought you just met him on Friday."

L winced internally as Sayu's introduction of him as Raito's friend was now interfering with the cover-up. Not to mention his own admission to Sayu that he had known the brunet for a few weeks. If Raito agreed to having only just met him... Sayu could blow them out of the water. From the look on her face, she was just _dying_ to.

"Formally," Raito said with an easy smile. "We became acquainted a few weeks ago, although I was unaware of L's profession at the time."

L was impressed. Raito really didn't miss a beat; he knew how to straddle the line between too much information and too little, and had dispelled the situation with expert ambiguity.

Sayu was scrunching down in her chair, looking defeated.

Meanwhile, Misa lost the suspicious pout and was back to batting her eyelashes at her beloved Raito, which earned her an annoyed look from both L and Sayu. If the brunet had one to add to the stack, he kept it well hidden.

"So, now that we're all together," mother Yagami said cheerfully, "who wants cake?"

There was a unanimous silence.

"We're here to celebrate a birthday," father Yagami said gruffly. "Now, who wants cake?" He panned the room with his evil eye and with every face it passed, there was a small voice added to those asking for cake. L was not exempt. As those piercing, threatening eyes moved over him, he also was meekly requesting the item in a subdued voice. Cake. That was about the last thing on his mind right now.

"Sayu, come help me get out the plates," Sachiko said as she moved toward the kitchen.

"But-!"

"Come along, _dear_," her mother snipped out in a brusque tone that threatened to turn icy. "Let your brother have some time with his friends."

L did not like being referred to as a friend, but was quite pleased to hear Misa described as such. She looked put-out. He smiled to himself.

"Raito," Misa whined in a delicate, solicitous manner. "I'm not just a friend, am I?" She was like a fragile flower, turning her face towards the sun.

The sun shown down upon her benevolently. "Misa... darling... we aren't dating anymore, so what else would she call you?"

"But-!" Her eyes shimmered with tears. She was on the end of the table directly opposite L, so he could see everything clearly. She lowered her voice, but he could still make it out. "But I'm not the same sort of friend that _he_ is, am I?" she pleaded.

"In no way whatsoever," Raito said, flicking his eyes to L and making it clear to him that it was Misa that paled in comparison, though the blonde girl took it the other way.

"I'm so happy, Raito," she sniffed, one tear rolling down her cheek as she closed her eyes, clenching his arm emotionally.

The touching display of Misa's one-woman-show was interrupted with the arrival of cake, and the ominous buzzing of another message hitting L's phone.

Tension sizzled up L's spine and he had no eyes for the decadent slice of chocolate cake that had been set in front of him. Biting the inside of his lip, he prayed that Aiber was merely conveying his withdrawal from Raito's residence. He read the message.

_'Well, now, this lock was nothing special.' _Aiber had texted back. _'Mere child's play. You could have done this yourself.'_

L felt like he'd just had ice-water poured through his stomach.

"I'll be right back," L excused himself from the table. He headed toward the hallway, phone clutched in his hand, and surveyed his options. A glass-paneled door he hadn't previously noticed promised to take him outside, and that seemed more favorable than the choice the bathroom offered, so he took it.

Once outside, he leaned against the wall of the house, willing the restless tension crawling through his limbs to cease. He was pissed and scared, and above all else, he did not feel able to stay calm. His hands were shaking again with nervous energy and it was unbelievably difficult to guide them upon the keypad as he broke an unwritten rule.

He put the phone to his ear as the call rang through on the number Aiber had given him ages ago._ There goes the secrecy of my phone number,_ L thought palely, too anxious to be properly agitated about that.

"Hello?" a larger-than-life voice drawled cheerfully.

L's stomach churned, making him regret the feeling of food in his stomach, though he hadn't eaten much. Anger. Anxiety. Anger. "What are you _doing_?" L hissed, jumping on him immediately.

"Just what I said I was doing," Aiber said conspiratorially, a taunting smile warming his voice. No introductions were necessary, Aiber had recognized his voice in an instant. "Are you surprised?"

"Yes! I'm surprised you would follow through on such an outlandish thing," L seethed. "This is completely unacceptable and-"

"What are you going to do about it?" Aiber challenged him.

"I could have you arrested," L said point-blank.

"Nice try, but you'd be incriminating your upstanding little friend, now wouldn't you?"

_Damn it, Aiber._

"I've barely begun to poke around in here," he drawled. "There is still time to stop me."

L clenched his hand upon the phone and heard the protesting creak of plastic. "Say clearly what you expect of me, Aiber."

"So you can refuse?" He laughed humorlessly. "I don't think so."

L's phone protested more loudly in his iron grip. "Aiber..." he warned.

"Meet me somewhere."

_Noooooooooo, _the voice in the back of L's mind wailed. (The voice of reason?)

"Where?"

"The old train station. Within the hour."

"What?" L's voice finally broke out of the flat, carefully inflectionless tone he'd enforced upon it as apprehension rode up his spine. Having a location named made it seem that much more immediate. That it was a low-traffic, nearly abandoned area made everything worse. His slim ray of hope that this could potentially be about business alone was fading.

"I can't go now!" L said in a harsh whisper, trying to keep his voice down so he would not be heard by those inside._ One hour? He'd have to leave almost immediately in order to make it. _"We only just got here-"

"Come alone," Aiber said and hung up.

L swore and snapped his phone shut. What in the hell should he do?

The priority was to get Aiber out of Raito's house. If he did as Aiber asked, that would be accomplished. After that, he could see how unreasonable Aiber was planning on being for himself. He suspected it would be _very_. But there _was_ a chance Aiber would merely be securing him as a partner once more. With him on the cases and Aiber working the clients, the money had been very good indeed. It was a small chance that greed was the motivation. L tried to refrain from optimism. Likely he would be having _that_ conversation, the 'Aiber-broke-in-and-knows-all-your-secrets' conversation, with Raito in the very near future and the brunet would have to decide how he wished to go about damage control.

"Lawliet?" Raito's voice called quietly from the back door, making him jump.

L shoved his phone back into his pocket. "Hi," he said, turning towards the door he hadn't heard open. Had he been caught that unaware of his surroundings, or had Raito been intentionally unobtrusive? Had he heard anything?

"What are you doing out here?"

"Just getting some fresh air..."

Ok, that was lame. And exceedingly unlikely for someone like himself who was quite happy not to go outside for weeks at a time. Raito appeared less than convinced and his gaze was assessing.

"Are they proving too much for you? Would you like to leave?"

L's toes scrunched deep into the bowels of his shoes. "Actually, something unavoidable has come up... could you drop me off at home?" He hated the lying. Not that it was an _actual _lie, because it wasn't... but he was certainly not being forthright and he was cancelling the plans they'd made with no notice.

He felt rotten, even if he was doing this with Raito's best interests in mind. He cringed a little as he waited for the brunet to say 'no' or require further explanations.

However, Raito did none of these things. He merely looked at L and waved him through the door with a 'shall we?'.

It was... unusual behavior.

* * *

"You're leaving?" Misa cried.

"It is necessary," Raito told her. "L has had something come up which he must see to immediately, and I am his ride home."

"Well, you're coming back, aren't you, dear?" Sachiko asked.

"I suppose I could," Raito relented with all the enthusiasm of someone picking out their own coffin, his eyes studying L surreptitiously.

L had a sinking feeling as Raito agreed. Not that it truly mattered if the brunet came back or not, but he'd had the wild hope that Raito would put up more of a fight and keep him from meeting Aiber - that he might demand more information and thus absolve L from this secrecy.

He really did not want to go.

If business was not what was on Aiber's mind, what would he do this time?

L bit his lip as he thought of it. He could not help being overpowered that last time at the bar, as he'd had far too much to drink. It was the only reason Aiber had been able to force a kiss on him. _This time it will be different. I'm not at a physical disadvantage._

But the memory of it still got under his skin, not that it was that long ago. That had been Friday night and this was only Sunday...

The force of Aiber's hand upon the back of his head had been unyielding as he had pulled L into the unexpected kiss. It was the hand of someone more than willing to exert as much pressure as necessary to get what he wanted, and Aiber certainly had the strength to back it up.

_It won't matter... I'll keep my distance._ If he had enough room to work with, he could kick Aiber's chiseled face into the dirt. Still, in a matter of brute strength alone, he was no match for the blond man. It was worrisome...

"L, dear, I hope you are able to put matters to rest without too much trouble," Sachiko said lightly.

L realized he'd retreated too far into his thoughts and he was making it impossible for proper goodbyes. She was a polite and shrewd woman, Raito's mother. He tipped his head at her in acknowledgement and said humbly, "As do I." How much trouble would Aiber cause him? He could only guess. "Thank you for having me in your home," he added a bit awkwardly, feeling that some additional social nicety was required.

* * *

The train station was not as old or run-down as one would guess. Though the location had been abandoned, it didn't appear to have been for any reason other than to make way for a slightly newer station that was less than two blocks away. It seemed wasteful.

L shoved his hands deep into his pockets, wishing that the city would have had the courtesy to at least have been more wasteful with the electricity in the area. The streetlights that remained illuminated were a dull, heavy yellow that seemed less useful than the moonlight that brightened the concrete pillars and walkway now and then. They seemed to encourage the lurking shadows.

His shoes scraped at loose gravel and weeds as he walked. Surely a haphazardly constructed chain link fence was not thought to keep trespassers out of the area? It mostly blocked access to the tracks, but did nothing to discourage people from the station building itself, and more light would certainly increase the safety of pedestrians that still passed this way...

A scuttling movement caught L's eye and he stopped short. There was also a soft _click clicking_ noise that dropped out of his hearing almost as soon as he'd heard it.

He waited several moments, scanning the shadows, but found nothing. _Must've been an animal... a stray dog or something..._

Resuming his approach, he also saw nothing of Aiber. L pulled out his phone to check the time. Thirteen minutes to spare. He'd made the deadline.

The station building, on second glance, had a chain link fence stretched across its side which would prevent access to the inner, covered walkways of the building. Or would have, if it hadn't been torn down in the middle. L shook his head. If they weren't going to maintain such a barrier, they needn't have bothered erecting it in the first place.

Again, he panned the area, looking for Aiber.

It was possible he was inside, just past the fence.

Of course, there was no telling who or what else might be in there as well.

L chewed on the inside of his lip as he considered. Aiber should be here. If he had decided to send L here while he raided Raito's room, which was possible as well, he would be giving up a significant amount of the pull he had over the situation. _Unless his motive is different than what I surmise, he is here... somewhere..._

_Should I call him, or go a little further?_

Not wanting to be night-blinded by opening his phone again, L moved forward, stepping gingerly over the roll of torn-down chain link, and into the cooler shadows of the station's parking-garage-like walkways.

* * *

TBC

**A/N: **The next chapter is written and awaiting beta. My GOD. We'll have a timely update next week! (heart) -Zero


	15. My Kingdom for a Horse

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 15

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N: **Sometimes chapter titles are hard to come up with. I try to make them be ones that actually provide a point of reference in the story so that, going back, you could say "Oh yeeeeeeeah, I remember that chapter. That was the one where..."

Well, sometimes I fail, but I _do_ try. :P

(For those of you who are thinking, 'What the hell? This update is totally not on time, you LIAR!' I apologize. Life intervened, my beta was not available, my wrist bones are grinding together in my right hand, and I am also one completed test closer to my IT certification. Efforts supporting potential job-getting will have to trump fanfiction activities. (_I was trying to not apologize every time I updated, but inquiring minds wanted to know the details._))

(*ETA* 5-10-11 fixed some formatting)

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 15: (My Kingdom for a Horse)

Raito stopped by his own home after dropping Lawliet at his. He'd let him go without any arguments, wanting to ascertain a few things elsewhere as quickly as possible.

He'd felt it odd that his home security had been triggered, marking an intrusion shortly preceding his guest's disappearance from the dining room. The message had buzzed through on Raito's phone - that movement had been detected and recorded at his residence. He'd checked his cell when Lawliet excused himself from the table, not needing to give anyone else in the room his full attention, and there it was. Naturally, he excused himself shortly afterwards as well, wanting to locate his elusive dark-haired quarry to see what had been distracting him, **and** to see if there was a connection.

Raito stopped his car in his driveway, throwing it into park.

He'd heard enough.

He'd _seen_ enough.

The quick flash of Lawliet's dark, evasive eyes. The way he jumped when Raito had eventually made himself known.

Nervous.

Guilty.

But to what extent?

He slammed his car door, glaring up the walk to the front door. He doubted anyone was still inside. But, if they were, he would deal with them.

His shoes crunched sharply on the pavement as he stalked towards the door.

Likely, they had fled. It would almost be too convenient if they hadn't - allowing him the opportunity to tie up loose ends before they flapped too freely. Then he would check the video feed to garner more information about the person ballsy enough and insane enough to intrude on _his _domain, **and** almost certainly hear the other half of that conversation his dear, dear Lawliet had been hiding from him.

His hand twitched into a fist as he gained the stoop.

No one messed with the sanctity of his surroundings without severe consequence. No one.

* * *

"Aiber," L called out finally. "Are you here?"

_Crunch, crunch._

Windswept dirt and fine gravel protested under his feet. Probably glass was in the mix as well - he could see something winking in the gloom from time to time when the faint light caught it just right.

Muttering to himself when there was no response, L relented and pulled out his cell phone. He redialed Aiber's number and waited. The call rang through, but no one answered, and he did not hear a phone ringing in his vicinity.  
_  
Damn it, is he really not here?_

_Was I wrong and he never intended to leave Raito's at all? Was he buying himself more time?  
_  
L snapped his phone shut and turned on his heel._ Perfect. Just perfect. I should have just told Raito about it in the first place. But for now, I've got to- _

The impact sent him nearly sprawling as his first long stride, made without quite looking up, walked straight into something solid. No, not something... _someone_. Because he could feel a steadying grip on his upper arms, which was what had saved him from crashing to the ground.

As expected, between the brightness of his phone's lcd screen and the brighter light he was now facing with the streetlights ahead of him, his eyes were ill-adjusted and he couldn't see properly. He stumbled as the hands which wrapped around his arms pushed him backwards and sideways, confounding his footing, until something solid hit his back.

"Hey!" L got out as soon as falling was not an imminent danger. "What do you think you're doin-?"

Whatever color might have been in his pale face felt like it had drained in the quick flash of a second as a rough mouth covered his. Pressed against what might have been one of the concrete pillars, unable to turn his head away as his mouth was forcibly violated, L began to panic.

"Mmf-!" The concrete ground against the back of his head as his lips were plied further apart to accommodate the wet heat of the stranger's intrusion. But there was something passingly familiar about... the grip of those hands and the faint smell of cologne... and the taste of the kiss which L had been trying not to notice was a little familiar, like... L's eyes widened in shock, a shudder wracking through him. _This was... Aiber? _

Yes, he was certain it was. Instead of calming him down, however, that little detail kept him panicking.

He didn't like this - being jumped without so much as a word made it seem like he did not even know this man at all. What was going on in his head? Aiber didn't appear to be drunk, only the faint touch of alcohol was in the kiss, if you could call it that. So, had he lost his mind, then?

L twisted in the man's grip, trying to loosen it to break away, or at the least, regain the use of his mouth.

"Hmf ee gnnn!" he protested in a growl. It should have sounded more like 'let me go', but, well, he supposed that this was why humans hadn't been born with two tongues - it would make language far less eloquent.

For a fraction of an instant, L gained the freedom of movement to bring his heel down sharply upon Aiber's foot, causing the man to pull back with a curse, though his grip on L only tightened.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" L raged, tying to shake the blond man's tenacious hold. He could see well enough now - Aiber's wavy blond hair, and the angry, nearly sullen expression he wore as he suffered the pain in his foot.

"Dammit, L," he hissed through clenched teeth, "you didn't have to break my goddamn foot."

"I'll break more than that if you don't let go of me."

"I'm doing you a** favor**," Aiber said harshly. "Or had you forgotten why you're here?"

"I didn't come here to be assaulted. I came here in the hopes you would see reason- and what the hell kind of favor would that be?"

Aiber's pale blue eyes looked cold and alien in the shadows. "I'm going to ruin him, L." He leaned closer, his voice barely above a sneering whisper as he gained L's ear. "Utterly... Fully... _Completely_..."

L didn't move a muscle, breathe, or even blink.

Could he go so far as to imagine it - what it would be like if Raito was taken away, imprisoned, and gone from his reach?

"But I'm giving you a chance to stop it," Aiber continued in a hushed tone, as if he was whispering the secrets of the world in L's ear. His lips brushed against it, taking the delicate lobe between his teeth. L twitched, and a fine tremor was working its way through him.  
_  
What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to __**do**__?_

Must he go along with Aiber in order to help Raito, or should he put an end to this and let the cards fall where they may?

"It's... not my problem," L said palely, not even believing himself as he said it. He was feeling more trapped by the second, though Aiber's hands had loosened and were sliding down his arms.

"It **is** your problem," Aiber reassured him. "but it doesn't have to be for long."

L closed his eyes tightly and swallowed. "What is it you require of me?"

"Whatever I ask of you."

"I will agree to nothing if you are not specific," L said thinly. They both knew that he had as good as agreed already - this was mere formality. L was trying to brace himself.

"I want you as a partner again. Business was good when we were together."

"If that's all, then I'll agre-"

Aiber silenced him with a long lick at his throat. "You know I want more than that this time, L."

"No, I don't know," L protested. "It makes no sense at all why you would... would want..." He trailed off as Aiber's hand settled upon his hip and the blond pressed bodily against him. L's heart was beating wildly in his chest like a scared rabbit's.

"Sense," Aiber said against his throat, his other hand tangling in L's hair. "It's not about sense or rationality. I want you. I want to feel your bare skin against mine and I want to see you unable to keep denying me."

Aiber's mouth was hot on his neck as he pulled L's head back to expose it. Each unsolicited touch was like a lead weight in L's stomach. He couldn't do this. But how could he not do this...?

"Aiber - I can't... do this... you and I are... I mean, it's..." Aiber's hand on his hip slid upward, under the edge of his shirt to brush the skin of his stomach, making it jump.

"Why don't we test your resolve right now?" Aiber said in a slightly roughened voice, skimming his hand up L's body and across his chest.

"N-now?"

"Submit yourself to me, or the deal's off."

Aiber wanted to have sex in the dirty, abandoned halls of the old train station? For real? He was out of his godforsaken mind.

L wanted to tell him as much, but Aiber seemed to have decided that this was it. If he resisted here, Raito really would be breaths away from prison. He couldn't stand the thought of seeing the brunet stripped of everything and thrown in a tank of humanity from which there might be no return. How would someone like Raito bear up under the loss of his freedom?

"No, I..." L started to say._ If anything, not __**here**__._

Everything in L's being protested the hand that began unbuttoning his pants and the mouth that descended on his, more gently this time, but all the more vulgar for the man's intent. _Raito. Can I endure this for him?_ L wasn't even sure. Every moment that passed, he was on the verge of stopping this, of calling off this insane agreement. If only he didn't think too far ahead... he wouldn't feel the apprehension laying on his skin like a fine sweat.

"Well, well, well," a third person's voice said darkly, obscured and faint, due to the place's acoustics, so that the precise location of its owner was anyone's guess. "I turn my back, and look what I find."

Something sharp and black speared through L, something like hope or despair only it was too burned and charred to be recognized as one or the other. _It can't be him... what are the chances?_ Hope lived like a dying ember. It was flickering in its final moments as L realized how this would all look to someone who did not know the whole story.

And through it all, Aiber was not releasing him.

Crisp footsteps sounded closer and closer, and L was being smothered by the blond man's mouth on his, a new panic rising in him with the surety that it _was_ Raito. One of L's hands was held in a unforgiving grip against concrete, the other pushed at the blond man unsuccessfully. It had to be Raito and Aiber knew it as well, which was why he wanted them to be seen like this.

The footsteps stopped. A white, collared shirt was evident in the gloom and the muted shine of steely eyes was visible despite the shadow over their owner's face. "What am I to do with you?"

Raito's voice was different from any way that L had ever heard it.

He had the sudden swift fear that they were about to be shot.

Aiber, his point having been made, ended the drawn-out kiss, leaving L to cough weakly as he sucked in air and tried not to feel sick. The blond man kept L pressed up against the concrete but turned to face Raito with a smile. "Once again we meet after hours, boss. Might I suggest we leave work at work? As you can see, I'm a little busy at the moment."

L could stare nowhere but at the ground as those sure footfalls sounded closer. His tensed body flinched and wound tighter with every closing step. He couldn't face Raito. Maybe being shot wouldn't be so bad? Of course, the very prospect was still terrifying...

"Perhaps you should step away from there so we can talk properly, Aiber," Raito suggested in a voice devoid of human emotion.

"Does it bother you, boss?" A condescending smile was in his voice. L cringed as Aiber nuzzled his neck, taking his provoking of the brunet to new levels. L struggled again, needing to be far, far away from this.

"Release him, Aiber."

Aiber laughed. "Are you going to make me if I say no?"

In a physical fight, Raito would likely be at a disadvantage. He understood that, right? L tried to say Raito's name, but his throat was too dry to accomplish it and it came out as a faint wheeze. The flicker of burnt amber eyes was utterly alien as they passed over him, making his blood run cold.

"Perhaps I will." The sound of a gun being cocked echoed within Raito's affirmative response.

"Oh god," L murmured weakly, sliding bonelessly to the ground as Aiber let him go. _Why was there a gun? Why was there a gun?_ Guns complicated things... Guns were hardly ever a good thing...

"Now, Aiber, I know we didn't always see eye to eye," Raito said in a faux-_confidant_ voice, as if he were righting a misunderstanding between good friends. "But the ruthless invasion of my home?" He _tsk-tsked_ at the larger man as he paced in front of him. "That's hardly a forgivable offense, in most anyone's eyes. I think you'll agree that I'd be within my rights to see justice done?"

Once again, came the metallic click of a cocking gun.

"How many people are with you?" Aiber asked in an offhanded way, unable to rouse his usual good humor.

L looked up and realized for the first time that Raito was not holding a gun. He looked around, trying to find figures in the darkness. There should be at least two.

"Would you like to take a ride with my associates, Aiber? I'm sure they'll bring us to a satisfactory conclusion."

"If you're arresting me, I want to see badges," Aiber said stonily.

"Arrest you?" Raito began to laugh and it was an ugly sound. There was a loud scrape as he turned on his heel and began walking away. "Take them," he said coldly with a wave of his hand.

_Them?_ L thought frantically as a flurry of movement came from the dark. "Hey - wait... Raito!" Raito didn't think he was involved in this too, did he? Rough arms grabbed him up as a burlap sack was pulled over his head. "Raito!" he called out as he struggled, the air he breathed quickly becoming stifling. Amidst the scuffling, and Aiber's protests as well, L could hear the crisp, measured sound of Raito's receding footsteps.

* * *

Hours later, a light came on in the room L had been kept in. Since the car ride, during which he'd been shoved in and out of a vehicle like a sack of potatoes, arms bound behind him, he'd been here. 'Here' was apparently a small, plain room from what he could see through the holes in the burlap.

Before being tied to the chair he was currently occupying, he'd been led around roughly by what sounded like at least three people through an obstacle course of stairs and elevators.

Just before being tossed in here had been an even greater trial. He'd heard a door swing open and had been pushed forward into it, told that this would be his last chance at a bathroom, so if he knew what was good for him, he'd make use of it.

He'd been granted the use of of a single hand, so he might use the urinal, the other being held behind his back. His sight, however, was denied him. It was not a process he ever wanted to repeat, nor think about in detail. Verbal instructions as to the relative location of things offered a nerve-wrackingly imprecise way of going about things, in his opinion, and he should rather be held at gunpoint next time so long as he could_ see_. Well, if there was a next time.

Afterwards, he'd been brought to this room, and left to wonder what they'd done with Aiber, and what was to become of him.

"Is someone there?" he called out, turning his head. Just now, he'd thought he'd heard something.

There was no response, though a small scuffing noise convinced him he was not alone.

A sudden pressure at the binding on his hands told him someone was checking his bonds.

"I'm going to release your hands," a stranger's voice said. "You have a visitor."

"Then why would you release me?" he asked aloud, more to keep this other person talking than for any other reason. What sense was there in releasing his bonds _now_? Did they not fear him making a break for freedom?

They ignored the question but said curtly, "Leave the covering on your head until you are told to remove it."

The door opened and closed again and L was left in silence. He waited a minute or two but was not rewarded with the permission to regain his sight. He tapped his leg in annoyance for several moments before whipping the burlap off of his head. Before him was a white, foldout table and sitting across from him, hands steepled in front of his face, was Raito.

L blinked in disbelief, a riot of reactions vying for supremacy in that instant. Shock, hope, indignation, anger, fear.

"I thought you might do that," the brunet said, a ghost of amusement lingering at the corner of his mouth.

L just sat, blinking at him and trying to make sense of his presence.

...it wasn't working. He was completely and utterly flummoxed.

"Do you know why you're here?" Raito asked solemnly, sitting back in his chair.

"I haven't the slightest, nor do I know where 'here' is."

"Hmn. Predictable once more." Raito gazed at him with unrelenting severity, letting silence close over them before breaking it once more. "Tell me, now, just what was going on between you and Aiber this evening."

"Can I expect you to be forthcoming as well?" L asked testily. His treatment over the last few hours and Raito appearing to be, more or less, the 'standard' and sane version of himself was making his timidity shrivel back.

"Perhaps." Raito said nothing more and sat waiting for L to speak.

L sighed and crumpled the burlap in his hands. "Well, I guess you knew somehow that Aiber broke into your home..."

Raito didn't bother to nod, he just stared with that unflinching gaze of his.

"Well..." L frowned. "He contacted me recently, somehow knowing of the room you keep locked, and was attempting to interest me in unlocking it. Apparently he heard of it from Misa, as well as the details about your comings and goings."

"And you had no interest in such things?"

L sighed. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't, but I certainly never agreed to be a part of Aiber's efforts."

"So your reason for meeting him tonight, cutting your earlier plans short was...?"

Raito's distanced way of describing things and his reserved manner were chafing. _Your_ earlier plans, instead of _'our'_ earlier plans... He also refrained from addressing L by his name, and his eyes looked unfriendly.

"He was blackmailing me, Raito," L said with exasperation. "Surely you saw enough that you didn't doubt that?"

"I'm withholding my opinion until you finish."

"He was determined to break into your house to try and find something incriminating with which he could tarnish your career. The motivating factor for him was that he might be able to use such a thing to ensure my cooperation in preventing it. And though I had mixed feelings on the matter, I generally would have done what I could to prevent it, but I drew the line at whoring myself out."

"That's not what it looked like to me," Raito said, crossing his arms.

"Ugh," L said in disgust, throwing the burlap at Raito's head. "Fuck you," he said getting to his feet and pacing. "By that time, he'd already been in and out of there and was ready to feed you to the media hounds."

"Sit," Raito said.

"I'm too agitated to sit." He glared at Raito. "You know, I had a feeling this might happen. I would stick my neck out for you and you'd take it completely the wrong way." He started pacing again. "But in the end, the thought of you getting shipped off to prison for one thing or another bothered me too much to leave it alone."

"That's where we are right now."

"What?" L asked incredulously, stopping in his tracks. "Prison?" He swore and started to laugh in nearly the same breath. "The irony is too much for me."

"Well, anyway, I'm done here," Raito said casually, straightening his shirt as he rose from the chair. He walked unhurriedly towards the door, utterly dismissive in his manner.

"That's it?" L asked, voice sounding broken and accusatory as denial burned sickly in his stomach. Prison? He was going to be tossed into prison for the crime of trying to keep Raito from that very fate? "You're leaving me here?"

Raito turned to look at him, a slow pan down and up his body. "I'd rather you come with me, but I suppose you can stay if you're set on it."

"Raito... what... you..." L spluttered. Speech was an elusive thing at times.

"Sorry about all of this," the brunet said flippantly. "I was beyond irritated."

"So you _knew_ I was innocent?"

"I was fairly certain," Raito said with a shrug.

"You-! You're totally sadistic!" L accused him. "Do you have any idea what you put me through?"

"Of course. I was here nearly the whole time."

L hung his head. That's it. Life had ceased to make sense. "Can I go _home_ now?"

"If by home, you mean _my_ house, then yes."

L began to protest, but stopped at the harsh gleam in Raito's eyes.

"I warn you, I am still well beyond irritated."

L bit his tongue. "So what did you do with Aiber? Is he still among the living?"

The strange look L had seen earlier, that expression devoid of human compassion, crossed the brunet's face. "For now," he said darkly. "Prison is too good for him."

L could not ascertain from that statement whether Aiber was incarcerated or waiting in a hole somewhere to be killed off. It was a disturbing thought. "Raito... those men, were they yakuza?" The method of their capture certainly seemed mafia-esque.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that, but Aiber has officially been put under arrest, thanks to some favors I called in."

"Wait - those were police officers?" L said incredulously.

"Stop asking me, or I'm going to leave you here," Raito said with finality, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway.

L scrambled out after him before the door could shut, not wanting to be in that room for even another moment. He'd make an effort to keep his mouth shut. For the time being anyway.

* * *

True to his unspoken word, L refrained from asking questions. Even when their long walk through the bright, yet somehow dismal, corridors with their shining floors led them eventually to a waiting police cruiser which proved to be their ride home.

_So where was Raito's car? How did he get here?_ L wondered these things in silence as they descended the cold concrete stairs to the vehicle below. It was also strange how thoroughly their presence here was ignored. No one had stopped to ask them what they'd been doing wandering the halls. It hardly seemed proper protocol for a police station, especially one as vast as this one. L took a quick glance behind him and judged the white building to be at least 5 floors. A compact 5 floors with possibly more beneath ground level. The building itself was on a corner lot, set a good distance away from any other buildings, and was surrounded by a lawn that seemed well maintained even in the dark beyond the illuminated walkway and parking lot.

Might Aiber be in the bowels of the building? Tied to a chair as L had been? Was that were Raito had been before making himself known? Had he done something to the man already, while wearing that wax mask of inhumanity?

Or had Aiber never been brought here at all?

If L had been seen as a potential innocent and Aiber was deemed guilty, how then had their treatment differed? While L had been slung into the back seat of a vehicle, had Aiber been tossed into a trunk? If prison was 'too good for him' as Raito had said, did it make sense that he would have been arrested? Was Raito lying about that?

So many questions... so many things sat uncomfortably unresolved and un-addressed.

They rode in the back seat of the cruiser in silence. It was a longer ride than expected, proving the station not to have been a local one. That, too, set L on edge. Was there a reason Raito had avoided the local one at which his father was stationed?

L fidgeted, ill-at-ease and still wondering at Raito's maintained displeasure with him, though he'd been proclaimed innocent of any wrong-doing. He really **did** want to go home - to get some distance from all of this and to _think_. He wanted out from under the thumb of oppression and this cloying feeling of helplessness.

And that is what he was right now - helpless. He was at Raito's beck and call, unable to affect the flow of events. He was adrift in a current not of his own making, and it needled him, pricking blood every everlasting second.

The cruiser stopped in front of Raito's house, the driver somehow knowing its location without directions. Raito opened the door and slid out, and L was able to see his car in the driveway. How then had he gotten to the abandoned train station? L highly doubted that he had walked.

He slid across the stiff, vinyl seat and out of the car. As soon as L was free of it, Raito swung the door shut with heavy thud, the swift motion fanning him with displaced air and the forceful sound of it making him jump. He half entertained the idea of taking off as the cruiser pulled away, but Raito's eyes intercepted him and crushed the thought with the look of a born tyrant.

L chewed the inside of his lip as he followed Raito up the walk. He hated suffering the brunet when he was angry.

And why should he be detained here, when Raito's anger seemed directed squarely at him? Shouldn't he be allowed to leave so that his companion could cool that temper instead of feeding it?

They entered the house with an impenetrable silence as their accompaniment.

L searched it for cracks as he was led down the hall. He did not want to go near the locked room. Not tonight. "I fail to see why you want me here if you're so pissed off at me."

"I'm not angry with you," Raito said shortly. "Not entirely."

The clipped words did not inspire a vote of confidence, nor did the sudden grip on his wrist as he was then pulled past the previously locked room and pushed into the bathroom at the end. The quick flood of illumination as Raito flicked on the light was disorienting, but not as much as L's confusion with what the brunet wanted from him.

Raito crowded him further into the room, shutting the door behind them. His face was set in a perpetual look of displeasure, and the only change in it was that when he looked at L, it intensified.

Raito directed him towards the sink where he was made to brush his teeth. Not that he didn't want to. Mint would be a welcome change from other things. It was just that Raito's tyrannical gaze was burning a hole between his shoulder blades and it was making him uneasy. L scrubbed the toothbrush over his teeth and tried not to meet the dark gaze that locked to his every time he glanced up. He put more focus on brushing, and tried not taste the underlying, psychologically-present quality of the second kiss that Aiber had forced on him, nor the queasy rolling of his stomach when the entire situation played out in his head for the umpteenth time.

L stared straight ahead, eyes on his own, reflected ones. Deep, dark, and framed by tension that he had not known was showing on his face. Just what had Raito done with Aiber? Raito, whose handsome face had never looked colder and more foreign than the moment before he turned his back and walked away.

L spat the minty foam into the sink.

Rinsing the brush, he had barely started to slide it into the toothbrush holder when Raito was turning him around with rough hands. Then, with military efficiency, L was suddenly being stripped of his clothes.

Shirt. Pants. Everything. Until clothes had been peeled back and he was wearing nothing but Raito's gaze.

"Raito?"

Confusion was a word that was starting to feel inadequate.

"Quiet."

L swallowed hard, trying not to let this affect him. It wasn't anything Raito hadn't seen before, but the brunet's unflinching assessment of his body was setting his nerves further on edge and feeding this sort of wild self-consciousness born of uncertainty and his lack of being able to predict what would happen at any given moment.

* * *

"Quiet," he said, looking Lawliet over thoroughly. He frowned, noticing the mark on L's throat. Unacceptable. "I told you he was not content to leave you be. How could you let him get his hooks in you?"

"I wasn't-"

Raito felt his lips twist in irritation and shoved the slighter man into the shower. He didn't care that his own clothes would be drenched as he followed suit and held Lawliet under the spray, gripping his thin, pale shoulders in his hands. He held him there until dark hair turned darkest black, becoming weighted with the water that poured over the spluttering detective.

Raito wanted to scour him clean. Erase the touch of the other man that had been forced upon his body. And he wanted to somehow still the rage that was still burning so relentlessly within himself.

Taking care of Aiber was not enough to let him gain equilibrium. The foreigner was out of the picture for now, Lawliet was in his hands, and still he was not satisfied.

* * *

L flailed, wondering if Raito was going to attempt drowning him.

Just as he thought the water had finally found a direct route to his lungs, he was pulled free and attacked with soap and a fierce set of hands.

"If you'd let him have you to protect me," Raito said tightly, "did you think it would end there?" The brunet scrubbed at him with shampoo and soap, leaving his skin red and a bit raw.

"Well, _I_ don't know-" L started, bristling somewhat at the condescension that leaked into Raito's voice. It was the implication that he had been about to do something so _obviously_ stupid - by the brunet's estimation, at least - that was setting him off.

"I'll tell you then," Raito said, his hard gaze looking nowhere but at where his hands worked. "It wouldn't. It would only be the beginning. I would have found out, and even before I had, Aiber would have been looking for ways to keep you all to himself. He would have blackmailed you with your infidelity and used that as a means to keep you from me." He pushed L under the water again.

When L was allowed to breathe once more and open his eyes, he found Raito's darkened eyes staring back, holding a complicated expression that he couldn't quite untangle.

"Don't you _ever_ compromise yourself like that for me again, Lawliet, do you understand?"

L blinked at him rapidly, looking a little lost.  
_  
My intervention was unwanted... unnecessary?_

_...stupid?_

_I thought I was doing the right thing... Despite how much I didn't want to do it, I thought it would have been unforgivable to do nothing. But by this, I'm perceived as a meddler?  
_  
Raito leaned forward and pressed a slow, emphatic kiss to L's lips, his eyes sharp. "I'm responsible for my own actions. Don't ever get involved like that again."

L felt even smaller and more insignificant than before, especially as he was naked and shivering and Raito was not. He was being berated for the loyalty he had shown? Loyalty that had been compelling enough to risk himself for someone else's sake. Wasn't that a sign of caring?

Was Raito telling him not to care?

He sagged against the wall, averting his eyes. "I... won't."

_Am I trapped in a one-sided attachment?_

Had he almost done something damaging to himself that would have been viewed as nothing more than an inconvenience to the person it was suffered for? L sank to the floor of the shower, clutching his knees to his chest and shivering.

After a long moment, Raito knelt next to him. His clothes were becoming further soaked in the spray.

He reached out, resting his hand upon L's head, nearly gently. His fingertips felt as fleeting upon L as an alighting sparrow on a branch. "What goes on in that head of yours sometimes, I wonder," Raito murmured, his voice losing the hard edge it had maintained up till now. "Next time, just tell me and let me deal with it."

L remained motionless while Raito spoke.

His feelings were oscillating so wildly that he couldn't keep up. Was he supposed to feel relieved? Unsettled? He could barely put name to the heart-clenching ups and downs that were racing through him. Above it all, he had almost, _almost_ given in to Aiber in order to protect Raito. _Why?_ Why had he nearly done that? It wasn't like him to do things like that. And more distressing still, it was unwanted.

_'Next time'?_ Would there be a next time? Just who was this man he'd been trying to protect?

L felt something press against his brow and realized it was Raito's forehead touching his.

The sudden closeness set off a riot within him.

"I couldn't stand it if you suffered on my account," Raito said in a barely audible voice, as if he didn't actually wish L to hear it. L looked up and caught a bare expression that fled the brunet's face as hastily as his voice adopted its usual tones. "Though your expression of loyalty was impressive, I'm afraid that admitting as much might encourage such idiocy in the future."

Tightness settled in his chest like a poignant weight that was both disconcerting and unfamiliar, and made it hard to look Raito in the eyes.

"Are you calling me an idiot?" L mumbled past the unsteady feeling of relief.

"I guess I am," Raito said in a playful tone that was not matched by his solemn, assessing eyes.

"Then I guess you won't mind if I call you an asshole," L remarked sullenly, testing him with the harsh words, closing his own eyes as the strength went out of him.

"I suppose I could find it in me to let it slide."

Cautiously indulgent. That was how Raito sounded. He was watching for L's reactions every bit as much as L was watching for his. He was uncertain, then. They both were. Somehow.

The moment was closing in on them, feeling too close and immediate. It was trying to settle once more in L's throat like a heavy weight.

"Your clothes are getting wet," L said after a long moment of silence broken only by the sound of running water.

"Want to help me take them off?"

L had to look up at him again to see if Raito was being serious. Even looking, he couldn't really tell, but the brunet's eyes looked warmer than they had in ages.

Raito gazed at him with that warm yet somehow tragic look, making L's heartbeat quicken as his elegant fingers reached up and traced the curve of his cheek. He felt that hand slide unhurriedly along his jaw, then underneath his chin as Raito leaned in, tilting his face up to receive a soft, tentative kiss.

He felt the touch all the way to his toes, though confusion washed into him as well.

Was Raito ever so hesitant? L was unnerved by this unprecedented behaviour: 'tragic', 'upset'. These were emotions that the brunet did not express. Anger? Irritation? Surely. But what kind of thing could cause an individual who closely resembled a sociopath to feel melancholy when he otherwise seemed so untouchable? If Raito was truly unstable, L might have to wonder if he was in some sort of peril here. Despite Raito's talk of 'next time's, L had gone against the brunet's wishes, though it was unknowingly, and something unseen may have shifted.

"I don't want you to be with anyone else," Raito said distantly, his hand trailing down L's neck in an unwitting caress. "Ever. I realized that when I saw Aiber running his hands all over you."  
_  
Killing someone could achieve that effect_, L thought, frozen as Raito's fingertips brushed the side of his throat and then settled around it. He tensed, not sure of the brunet's intentions. Had he himself become a liability?

"Raito."

With the uttering of the brunet's name, L broke the spell, and there again in Raito's amber gaze was that look of unhappiness. "What do you want, Raito?"

Raito's hand slid from his throat to trace one of L's collar bones, his eyes following. "I want to be in control again."

"I've never seen you not in control," L said carefully.

"Then I am a great actor, because I haven't been in control since I met you."

L kept silent for a few moments, the inappropriateness of the conversation taking place like this, in a bathtub with one of them naked and both of them wet, suddenly striking him. "And yet you have more control than I do, so what should I make of that?"

Raito looked at him contemplatively, then retreated, leaning back against the wall of the tub. "Hmn."

Inappropriateness reigned further in that L found his eyes were getting caught on the near-translucence of Raito's utterly soaked white shirt and the way it molded to his body as he'd reclined. He could see every contour of smooth, leanly muscled flesh and the darker spots of color under the shirt where his nipples were.

He wrenched his eyes away to the questionably safer locale of Raito's face and said, "If I were in control, we wouldn't be here like this right now."

Raito's eyes were watchful, like a wolf's, drawing him in while keeping him at a distance. "And where would you be?"

Plain truth devoid of artifice and games had this feel to it. This hurtling, unstable ground that was suddenly between them like a battlefield. It felt more dangerous than the misleading and the obscure.

"At home, maybe." If he had never gone to meet Aiber, and had not spent hours at the police station, he might well be home by now. Even upholding his earlier plans with Raito, he could have been home by now.

"So it **is** only with my insistence that you stay near me." The wolf-like look intensified, covered poorly with a veneer of boredom. "Given _your_ preference..."

"That isn't what I said." L frowned at him.

"Tell me, Lawliet," Raito said, toying with the button of his collared shirt as if considering undoing it but making no move to do so. The intended effect was probably to draw L's eyes to it. If so, it was working. "What am I to you?"

L was perplexed and shook his head slightly. How could he hope to respond to that when he didn't even know the answer himself?

Nimble fingers flicked the button open and settled on the next. "Not even a try at that?" Raito asked. "No professions of undying love?" _Flick._ "No testaments of devotion?" _Flick_.

L had given up on gauging the brunet's mood. He had not quite given up on trying to pry his eyes off of the widening gap in Raito's shirt, however, though he was, as of yet, unsuccessful.

Flippant, dangerous, yet somehow vulnerable while being mocking. Raito embodied all of these things and made the large bathtub seem too small to hold it all in.

"Come now, there must be something in there for me," Raito said engagingly. His eyes were contradictory - the playfulness was not there, though something of the tragic look was. _Flick_. "Something lasting..."

"I don't know what you want from me," L said, feeling troubled. What was Raito trying to accomplish? Was it shame he was trying to procure from him as he flaunted the body that L had succumbed to time and time again? Or was he merely feeling uncharitable and wanting to rub L's feelings in his face with his taunting before cutting him loose?

Raito's expression darkened, a flash-rage as he ripped the last two buttons clean off with a vicious tearing of his shirt as he sat up. "Why are you the only one who acts like you don't need me?"

L's eyes widened as Raito lost his temper.

"Anyone else," he raged, rising to his feet like a mad angel, the shirt fluttering about him like wings, "_Anyone_ else and I can see it clearly. But you? No. You're locked tighter than a steel trap and all I can see is you _reacting_. To me, to Aiber," he spat the blond man's name. "You're the only one that _**matters**_ and I can't tell if you really even want me."

Being on the receiving end of a rampage, L found, was inconvenient. It put one at a disadvantage as it was hard to determine if there existed anything _right_ that could be uttered in such a situation. But there was a simpler, dirtier tactic that could be used here.

L got to his feet and squared his shoulders, staring Raito in the eye as he said, "Tell me then, what I am to _you_?"

As expected, a difficult question like this stopped Raito in his tracks, closing his mouth so tightly that it was a firm line. Easy to demand, not so easy to answer. It was the one question L found he had the utmost difficulty in answering, and so it seemed that for Raito, it was the same.

Raito took his shirt off distractedly, looking like he was thinking of fleeing the bathroom altogether, then sat on the edge of the tub with an air of stubbornness about him. "I'm not answering that," he said after what looked like several long moments of deliberation.

"Then why should you expect me to?" L said, annoyed once more at the inequality that was set up between them time and time again. Even their current attire reflected it. Here he was, ass to the wind, while the considerably less-than-nude brunet had taken up residence in the direct path he'd need to take for a towel, never once considering that being naked might make him feel a little ill-equipped for something like this. "Not to mention, I have put up with a lot when it comes to you. I question my own sanity when it comes right down to it. And you want me to tell you how I _feel_?"

Raito was making a good show of intimidating the wall. He did not turn his sour expression towards L even once.

"You scared the shit out of me tonight," L said rapidly. "I have no idea _what_ you are planning to do with Aiber, and Misa pisses me the hell off." He crossed his arms. "Your turn. Go."

Raito let out a noise of derision, then spoke in a similar rushed pace, "I _hate_ Aiber; I haven't decided what to do with him yet. And I'm sorry for what happened tonight." He paused, flicking his eyes to L experimentally. "I'm willing to do whatever you want to make it right."

L leaned against the wall, leveling a suspicious look at him. "Whatever I want? Or are there a plethora of hidden exceptions that I'll find as I ask for them?"

Raito glared at him. "I said, _whatever you want_. Though I'm considering taking it back."

"Then I suppose you aren't as sorry as you let on," L said snidely. He really hated hidden catches. It made big promises all feel like such rotten lies.

Raito let out a noise of frustration, burying his face in his hands a moment. "Dammit, I'm really trying here," he said through them in a slightly muffled voice.

He slid them up then to brush his damp hair back off of his face, as if trying to mask a moment of weakness with a similar action.

Of all the things L really wanted from Raito... it was so hard to choose. He could ask that Misa be banished from Raito's personal space forever, he could ask that Raito man up and give him even a clue of how he really felt (torturing him was part of the incentive in that one), he could ask that he never be subjected to Raito's family ever again... But in the end...

"I need you to not kill Aiber," L said, "if that was what you are really intending." In the end, his conscience demanded he keep his former associate alive if it was in his power to do. It was selfish to do otherwise, though he appeased himself with thoughts of later kicking Aiber in the nuts so hard he would feel them on his tongue.

Raito frowned, staring again at the wall. "What if he's already dead?"

"You said he was in prison."

"Yes, I did say that, didn't I?"

L considered. "So, either you lied to me earlier, or you are trying to mislead me now so that you can still do what you want later. Your apology is becoming transparent already."

"He could be dead, in prison."

"Look at me and tell me that's the case," L said stonily. "Maybe I'll believe you."

Amber eyes flicked up at him. Raito sighed in annoyance. "Ok. Fine. He's not dead. And though I would love to have it be otherwise, I do not have a firing squad at my disposal with which to remedy that."

"I'm sure you have other ways," L said, overly aware that Raito had been quite specific at what he _didn't_ have at his disposal. He never said he didn't have the means at all.

Raito was watching him again, with almost animal-like fixation. "You won't be satisfied with just that, will you? I'll leave Aiber alone, though the fact that you even asked me for that is grating; yet it still will not appease you."

"You're right."

They stared at each other, a contest of wills.

The shower head dripped intermittently in the background.

"What else do you require?" Raito said finally.

"A towel." It was getting damn cold in here.

Raito dropped his eyes to slowly pan up L's body, with every intent to embarrass him and push his luck. "Are you sure?" he asked in all innocence. "It won't be nearly as flattering as what you have on..."

"Yes," he snapped, garnering an amused smirk look from the brunet which wasn't hidden nearly well enough for him not to discern it.

"Of course."

Raito swung his long legs over the side of the tub and left a trail of water where his soaked pants dripped profusely, leaving L to fight down the color that had risen in his cheeks at the brunet's teasing. It didn't really help that the waterlogged pants rode low on Raito's hips or that L had an exceptional view of his lovely, bare back.

_Focus, L. Don't let him distract you. No, don't focus on his abs_, he berated himself as Raito made the return trip. _Wrong focus. Wrong!_

"Is there anything else you want?" Raito said in a sly tone as he held the towel just out of reach and rekindled the blush with another impromptu once-over of L's bare skin.

"If you don't want to be making things up to me for the next 48 hours, I suggest you start curbing your impulses."

"I'll make things up to you for as long as you let me," Raito said intimately, brushing a kiss against his lips. "If only you'll forgive me afterwards."

Raito pulled him into a slow, passionate kiss, one that wasn't so much about gaining control, but about losing it, slowly, deliberately. He explored L's mouth in the relaxed manner of someone who owned it, enticing L to more through gentle, thorough persuasion. It was hard not to fall into it. There was nothing really to fight against.  
_  
What a dirty tactic,_ L thought. How was he supposed to demand repayment for all the injustices so far when being blind-sided like this? Raito's hand was smoothing down his side, and his thigh, like he was made of porcelain - a reverent brush of fingertips that made him burn inside.

Then they trailed back up, tracing his hip as Raito's mouth released his and descended on his throat, seeking sensitive flesh.

L shuddered, clutching at Raito as sensation rippled through him and his knees grew weak.

He wanted to tell the brunet to stop, to stop trying to distract him like this all the time, but he couldn't. The words were too elusive on his tongue, and he didn't _want _him to stop. He wanted this sweetly damning contact more than he knew how to explain...

"Let me make love to you, Lawliet," Raito's voice came in his ear, husky and slightly out of breath. "Please," he whispered with intensity, laying kisses upon L's fevered cheek.

How could he say no, or deny that he wanted the same thing while Raito's bare flesh was so hot against his? His body wouldn't lie, and the towel had long since fallen from their hands.

* * *

The relocation back to the bedroom was a blur, a hazy procession of secretive touches and fevered lips and the tantalizingly fleeting press of bare hips and thighs as they made halting progress. The cold roughness of the hallway against L's back as Raito paused to press him against it and violate his mouth as if he could not bear to leave it unmolested another moment... The taste of him, and the sensuous movements of Raito's sly mouth were building the hunger within him, feeding it so deeply that he didn't want to let go, didn't want even the small interruption that would bring them to a more suitable place... His heart was racing, and Raito's was as well, beating against his chest. That he could feel the brunet's arousal so viscerally as it pressed against him made the kisses that much more mind-breakingly erotic.

That Raito could desire him like this, as much as he desired the brunet...

Hurried kisses expressed the same need and impatience as L felt. And for a long moment, when they were halfway to their destination, they stopped inching forward altogether and it seemed that they would give in to passion there in the hall. Raito's rough sigh against his mouth and the ungodly press of taut abdomens against aching flesh as their hips met... L's arms wound around Raito and held onto him like he was drowning. Silken hair brushed his fingertips and he threaded them through it, forcing a harsher union between their mouths as he pulled Raito closer.

L didn't remember the specifics of how he ended up on the bed, only that he wanted to be there. Needed to be there, with Raito's amber eyes pinning him in place as surely as his body did.

"Aaah!" L cried out as Raito moved within him, thrusting so long and deep that he had long since given up on beating the flush from his face through sheer will.

He clutched at Raito's shoulders, overwhelmed with the feel of the brunet's body pressing his to the bed, aroused beyond measure at the sensual sounds that fell from those fiercely sexual lips, mindless with the cadence of their harsh breaths.

Why did he want this so badly? Need it so severely?

He'd barely given these things a passing thought before meeting Raito. Still didn't, unless the brunet was involved.

It came on so strong and flew in the face of reason. He wanted the feel of their joined bodies like it was a tool to pry the lock off of Raito's mind and wrench the whole of his being into the light where he could inspect it and pore over it to his satisfaction. He wanted everything, and he could sense what was in there, even when he could not see it clearly.

But the frustration of not being IN there, of not being privy to every little secret corridor, was as maddening as the growing ache within him that could only be laid to rest with the clash of heated flesh and bruised mouths.

A warm hand wrapped around his arousal, stunning in the way it caused sensation to stab through him so immediately and desperately with its coaxing caresses. Damnable in how it broke his voice on the syllables of Raito's name until it no longer sounded like a name at all.

What was this feeling? This tightness in his chest? Why was it that he could hear the echoes of the brunet's words 'Let me make love to you' ringing in his ears as if they were being spoken over and over again, embarrassing him with their fervor and yet fulfilling something inside of him that was as dark and cavernous as the maw of a great beast?

The ache of lust swelled and stretched, pulling at his body until it was as tight as a wire, flooding every cell in his body with hypersensitivity. His damp hair on the bed, the dried water on their skin which was now replaced with a fine sheen of sweat, the intoxicating smell that was Raito, and the sliding feeling of him spearing L's body, sending shudders rippling through L with every movement.

He met the thrusts with his hips, conscious of the hand on his hip that was leading him in while tightening on his flesh with every gasp that passed the brunet's lips.

How honest they were like this.

How shamefully debased and smitten and totally gone on each other they were. And was it all the product of chemical reactions in the brain that made it so? That made it feel like they were flying in thin atmosphere, wanting for breath and yet feeling so free?

L's eyes slammed shut as sensation ignited in him like a roaring fire, drowning out all sound but the rushing in his ears and the sound of his own heart beating so hard and fast it seemed it might explode. He bit his lip hard to keep from voicing the sound in his throat, to keep that guttural noise in the darkness where it belonged. But he heard its twin in Raito's voice, tearing through the white noise as release tore through him.

* * *

They lay twined together, a mess of limbs that were haphazard and boneless, as sleep borne of exhaustion tugged at them both and breath came easier than before.

"I don't want this with anyone but you," Raito said in his ear, his voice slurring faintly as if he were on the verge of dreams and unconsciousness. "That's how I feel."

"I'm still not professing my undying love to you," L murmured back, turning his face into Raito's neck as the pull of sleep washed over him more insistently. He wondered vaguely why he'd said 'my', when he hadn't meant to say it at all. It made it seem less of a joke than he'd intended, and more like some kind of half-assed confession.

"That's ok; you don't have to say it out loud."

L would have hit him for the insinuation in his sleepily amused voice, but he found that consciousness was not with him long enough to accomplish it.

* * *

TBC

**A/N:** liek omg pr0nz o_o


	16. Caught Between an A and a Hard Place

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 16

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N: **An update! Woot!

Also, managed to write most of the next chapter. Yay! XD

(*ETA* 5-11-11 fixed some formatting)

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 16: (Caught Between an A and a Hard Place)

Raito looked up at the darkness of his bedroom ceiling.

He hadn't planned things to go this way - hadn't meant for any of it to happen, really.

Aiber.

Lawliet.

Circumstance and the lack of options forced him to play his hand in the only reasonable way.

He closed his eyes again, a soft, harried sigh escaping his lips.

All of his carefully laid plans were shifting, contorting... losing the shape he had so painstakingly crafted for them.

So much was now out of his immediate control that it inspired a feeling much like a phantom hand enclosing his chest and squeezing... wringing his lungs and heart and cracking his ribs... so much so that he wanted to act out, wildly seize back any control that was there to be had, if only to still that crushing grip.

He'd nearly eliminated Aiber, a thing that would have been sure to put his world back to some sort of stasis. Fucking Aiber who had complicated things immeasurably.

He could still see the grotesque silhouette, the macabre vestiges of that scene in his mind's eye - the contours of the foreigner exploiting the mouth of the dark-haired _énigme_ he'd wanted for his own.

Jealousy did not suit him.

Neither did this broiling anger, or uncertainty.

It made him act too rashly, too regrettably.

He could remember it - the feel Lawliet's smooth skin beneath his fingers...

...his long, pale neck, beautiful and vulnerable beneath his questing hands...

He'd surrounded that column with the embrace of his palms... felt the shudder beneath them...

He'd felt those dark eyes on him, watching him. Always watching him, as if he were the world's greatest monster and only that opaque, obsidian gaze could shackle him.

Raito's eyes opened, sliding to the space next to him where Lawliet's seemingly lifeless body lay like a broken toy.

Ambient light caught in the twisted tangle of his unruly black hair.

The curve of a pale cheek lay obscured and perfect beneath it.

Raito brushed jagged bangs aside, taken with the stillness in that face.

_No more running, now that I've clipped your wings...  
_  
He smiled then, in the dark, an expression of the melancholy satisfaction which had taken to ghosting over him.  
_  
Forgive me, Lawliet._

He leaned in, brushing his lips against the cool skin of the detective's cheekbone.

But now... now there were _other_ things to attend to.

He slipped out of bed.

* * *

The sound of a phone broke the silence of the pre-dawn stillness.

It was an obtrusive sound, jarring, unrepentant in its insistence.

Raito answered it, and it was this that gradually dragged L from a sleep so deep that he could hardly, in this moment, believe he was prone to insomnia.

The cadences of that voice were soothing, rhythmic... and yet they also held something of a discordant quality which sat within L's chest like a smoldering weight.

The prospect of seeing the brunet, who was just in the other room, of talking to him... set off a discomfiting set of feelings within him. The brunet's face, so beautiful that it was nearly painful... the silken tone of his voice... the way his eyes could look as warm as fire or as cold as the dark side of the moon...

And above all of that, the way Raito had him so off-kilter.

L sat up and shook his mussed hair out of his eyes.

Why had he succumbed yet again? At the time, it had seemed like his own idea, but he knew now that it was not. Now, in the chill of early morning, he was alone to analyze the happenings between them with greater clarity.

Only, all he could see was the drowning passion of amber-_rouge_ eyes as Raito claimed his lips, his body, leaving him helpless.

Helpless... and fluttering against the thrill that surged through his very being.

"Ugh," L groaned softly into his waiting hands.

Eddies of pleasure still rippled and sparked with even the briefest remembrance of their joining, making him feel awkward, disjointed, and fragmented.

"Awake now?"

L jumped as Raito's cultured voice flooded him. It was too immediate, too close, sounding like it originated within his own body, rather than from the doorway.

"I should think that's apparent."

Raito scoffed at him eloquently and pushed off from the door frame he had been leaning on. "Your voice is so cold, Lawliet." Measured steps brought him to the side of the bed. A hand beneath L's chin forced their eyes to meet. Amusement lurked in amber depths. "Where is the passion you held only a few short hours ago?"

"Don't mock me," L said stiffly, hating the teasing. He pushed Raito's hand away.

"I'm only playing," Raito said in an indulgent voice, his dismissed hand finding a place upon the side of L's neck. It caressed the skin, warm and safe... and dangerous.

L's eyes closed, his brow furrowing. Where had that feeling of progress gone? That certainty that they were moving forward and solidifying whatever this strange bond between them was?

"You're upset about something..." Raito said, too definitively to be a question, though there was something of an upward lilt to the words. "Last night." He paused. "Does it bother you, afterwards, the idea of making love instead of sating _lust_?"

L whipped dark eyes towards the source of his agitation, a frown upon his face.

Love.

Lust.

Once more, Raito had gotten too close and oxygen seemed scarcer than it had before.  
_  
Always, he says these things that...!_

Raito's bold, brazen words that only served to ruffle L's calm and convince him that the brunet sought to make him uncomfortable only to take amusement in it.

"Is it making love, as you called it last night," L asked, "if love is not even involved?"

His nerves jangled. He didn't really want to hear the answer, nor pursue this particular conversation at all, but at the same time he couldn't let it be.

Instead of answering him, Raito's mouth descended on his, kissing him so sweetly that it was excruciating. It was a hot poker in L's chest as lips softly parted his in a facsimile of the sort of kiss one might expect from one professing love.

The promise of it, and the harsh contrast of the absence of such a promise was too much.

L couldn't help that he had somehow had love form in his previously untested heart. But why with Raito? Why _for_ Raito? He couldn't even trust the brunet, and at any given time was not able to guess the thoughts circling that humbling mind.

Distress and frustration stabbed through L and he pushed Raito away. "Answer my question the normal way."

Raito's eyes were elusive, like an animal's. There was an uncanny stillness about him as he said, "You don't trust me at all, do you?"

"This isn't about trust!"

Raito was still eyeing him, picking him apart, dissecting him in the small span of moments before he spoke again. "Oh, but it is. Maybe you just don't recognize it." He paused, then held a hand out. "Come with me."

L eyed him back, twisting the sheets that covered him from the waist down in fidgeting hands. "Where?"

"Come."

Again, there was no room in Raito's demands for trivial details. No concern for specifics, explanations, or even clothes for that matter.

It grated upon L's sensibilities to take that perfect hand - to let himself be led.  
_  
Ok, so maybe it is about trust..._

Raito kept his eyes from exploiting L's nakedness, purposely making it almost an inconsequential thing merely by not acknowledging it, and led him out of the room without comment.

L's heart constricted in his chest as Raito stopped in front of the locked room.

Raito's gaze drifted back to settle on L's face.

"After you," he said.

"What? But you keep it lo-"

Raito gave the door a gentle tap and it began to swing inwards.

L's eyes followed the movement, riveted. It was opening. The puzzlebox that Raito had kept so secret, so safe. And what might await him inside? What did it mean for Raito to put this before him?

"A display of trust," Raito said cryptically, "to earn yours."

L looked up at him as he spoke, and Raito's eyes had that foreign quality to them - the one that made him seem closed off and nearly lacking of any human qualities. That disturbing visage, so like the one L had seen earlier tonight to the accompaniment of readying guns. It put him on edge.

* * *

Raito stared back.

Lawliet was surprising him. He'd rather expected the detective to disappear into the room the moment he'd been given clearance.

Some part of him, while he'd declared his belief in the other man's innocence in the matter of the break-in, had wondered how much of that innocence was a mere technicality. Hadn't the dark eyes before him quickened with interest at the closeted mystery of this off-limits room? How stridently had the detective fought against his curiosity? How close had he come to violating his home with the likes of Aiber? Had it been a last minute decision? Had it been Aiber's timing that had thrown it all off - that Lawliet was already indisposed, strong-armed into an engagement at the Yagami household?

But here Lawliet was... standing at the edge of the room as if it were a precipice.

"Go on," Raito said again.

"I don't think you really want me to, Raito."

It was a solemn gaze that met his own.

"Perhaps," the detective said, "It is your own trust you wish to procure and not my own."

It was possibly a truer statement than Raito liked to admit. A display of trust? Certainly his actions could be seen as such, but it was also a test. Not one with a specific, desired outcome, merely one that he felt like administering. Just to see what would happen.

And Lawliet's reaction was unanticipated.

Within his large, black eyes, the covert shine of intrigue was held in check. He sensed... something, and was waiting on Raito to make it clear through some minute detail.

That Lawliet made no move forward made a sentiment much like respect increase within Raito, though the impudence of the other man's failure to comply to his direction irritated him.

Raito was on edge.

His secrets lay just beyond, and even opening this door in the presence of another was akin to sacrilege. He treasured his secrets. Fiercely. He would do almost anything to protect them. And that was why he needed Lawliet to step inside.

* * *

L was quite torn.

Alarms were going off in his head in reaction to standing here and refusing the temptation before him. However, they also responded in a cacophony of disapproval to the idea of actually going within the room.

Both seemed like such very bad ideas.

So then, which was worse?

It was a difficult decision. A dilemma, as it were, the two courses of action seemed so evenly matched... so L decided upon one in the clearest fashion he could manage.

"Alright," he said to Raito.

Curiosity had become the deciding factor.

In lieu of there being any 'right' choice to be made, he could at least satisfy his inquisitive mind.

L turned back towards the room, probing the darkness beyond the illuminated frame and door, making out objects that might well be furniture in the small strip of gloom. It seemed an organized space. Nothing haphazard or out of place...

He reached out to push the door further inwards, exposing more of the room to his eyes. Neat. Almost neurotically so. He stepped forward, his gaze flicking across every corner and object, the feel of the room enclosing around him.

One could surmise that Raito was either not in the habit of heavily using this room (it had a nearly untouched, museum-like quality) or he had recently tidied the space prior to this viewing.

There was a heavy, formidable-looking desk against the wall. A pair of bookcases took up the corners of the room, filled with thick-spined volumes that were likely reference sets, among other things, along with a few chairs that were plush, high-backed and similar to the sort of seating one would find in an 19th-century European study. All it was missing was a fireplace.

The window, in what one might call the reading corner, was covered with a thick curtain that would block most light and any overly ambitious eyes from the outside.

L itched to explore the desk, with its wide drawers that boasted space enough for hanging files. What might one discover within its depths? Or beyond, in the closet to the left of it? A closet that was gaping, half open, in a beckoning fashion...

It pulled L to it, promising a more disordered trove of secrets. Stacks and shapes of things that were askew - not perfectly glossed over in the habit of the rest of the room - were visible. For this, he could overlook the desk with its tauntingly keyed drawers.

* * *

Raito slid the deadbolt in the room's door home with the turn of his key.

As expected, it was the closet that drew the detective in - the disorder amongst order that caught at him so.

Lawliet's entire body language had changed subtly as he caught sight of it. His slim frame, so appealingly long-limbed and on the verge of graceful, had it not been for his amazingly poor posture, had become straighter and nearly authoritative in its bearing.

His attention was solely focused on the yawning darkness of the closet, and not Raito who was moving towards him.

* * *

In the back of his mind, L thought he registered the metallic click of a deadbolt. He had not, however, heard the sound of a door opening and closing, so he assumed that Raito remained in the room. He almost had his goal in hand, a disorderly stack that was utterly compelling for some reason. His fingertips stretched to reach it.

Odd, though, that Raito would lock the door when they were in here...

But it would be odder still if he had locked L inside, alone.

Which he hadn't... but L had also noted the soft jingle of keys. Now why would Raito have a double-sided deadbolt on the door in the first place?

A hand slid down L's back, just as he'd levered up onto his toes a bit and secured his hold on the edges of the square-edged stack. From the back of his neck, down to the curve of his backside, the lascivious touch reminded him suddenly of his forgotten lack of clothing and made him lose his hold, spilling his prize to the floor.

Like confetti, ink-marked cardboard coasters scattered at his feet. So very familiar _now_ as recognition punched through his gut.

"So," Raito's voice whispered into his ear from over his shoulder, his clothes brushing L's bare skin, "what are you going to do now?"

The coasters mocked him from their lowly resting place, as did the lies they represented.

L's jaw clenched, and his entire body stiffened. Now, perhaps, the locked door was making sense. "What did you expect I would do?"

"Oh, I expect that you will become filled with righteous indignation..." Fingertips skimmed the immobilized, hanging weight of his arm, bringing L's entire focus to it - to the unsolicited, wrongful contact. L needed a moment to sort this out... to process and re-analyze everything that had happened up until now - everything that had been said - in light of this new information.

Snippets of conversation flickered through his mind and before his eyes, as the severe form of Raito's presence lay behind him like a steel wall, his hands as incapacitating as steel cuffs with their faint touches.

_But for what reason would he expose this to me?_

_Why would he put this within my reach? It only compromises his standing..._

_Unless that is what he wanted? To show me he'd been lying all this time. But is it merely to gloat that he'd put such a thing past me? Or..._

"Why did you show me this room?" L asked flatly, staring straight ahead, but not seeing what was in front of him.

"I've told you that already," came Raito's voice with that strangeness in it. That dark, dragging, dangerous sort of tone, colored with a slight, unfeeling smile.

"Trust? Am I supposed to believe that entirely, when you have already been through here, arranging things to your liking?" Words were hard to deliver here. Each one must be chosen with utmost care. The brunet's insidious hands were still, anticipatory, waiting. "You say it is a display of trust, yet it is exactly the opposite when you have had to take such preparations... working as I slept to create this..."

"Are you so certain of that, Lawliet?" Raito spoke against his ear, his hair brushing L's cheek. "When all you have is your conjecture?" He might have been looking over L's shoulder, sharing some distant view on the horizon. His voice lowered, sounding pointed and mockingly amused at the same time as he continued, "Do you know for certain that I am not merely meticulous to this degree in all things?"

L ran possible responses through his head. He disliked the instability of all of this greatly. The situation, Raito himself, and the very near future all seemed too chaotic. One of the larger problems being his initial assessment of the brunet, which the coasters had smeared across his eyes until that was all he could see. All he could see _through_.

He'd wondered if Raito was a sociopath, been certain of it although he had not determined whether he was truly dangerous, or had any violent tendencies in the least. But now there were a myriad of seemingly inconsequential things that clamored to the surface, demanding his attention. So many little things that made him wonder. What was Raito's true face? What things had he done, and was the evidence of such things within this room? It was, wasn't it?

"It's too clean. Too sterile," L said finally.

Was Raito trying to expose everything about himself, trusting L to dig deep and find it? Or was he trying to hide in plain view?

Were the coasters meant as a slap in the face and the means by which L's dubious belief in Raito might meet its ruinous end? Or were they merely a prelude to something more?

"You've brought me inside, and you're hiding," L continued as Raito's arm looped around his neck and draped over his shoulders, keeping him close. He fought the tension in his body, and ignored the tension in that slender, muscled limb.

"A bit at a time," Raito said in a voice barely above a whisper, "I'll show you myself. But I wonder if you can handle it?"

"I wonder if you'll let me," L responded, just as softly.

A long pause. "Are we at an impasse?"

L rolled it all around in his head, a firestorm of details, the things he guessed at, the things he thought he knew, and the maddening questions that plagued him. Above all was the tie of emotion that bound him to the brunet even against sense and reason.

It was a peculiar and unfamiliar thing... and it made him want to pursue the truth, though he was gritting his teeth, and he knew that he was going to dig down as far as he had to in order to find it. Answers were more important than anything else, and he was willing to weather whatever it was, if only to rip back these false layers that were smothering him, these masks that the brunet was wearing and his grand deceptions.

_An impasse?_ "That is merely a potentiality," L said. He pointed to the ground. "What do you mean by showing me these?"

"Can't you guess?" Raito's voice held a cruel smile.

"You want me to see what a liar you can be? You want me to have no faith or trust in you? You want me to see how disturbing you are?"

The arm at L's throat tightened, tense. "Is that what you see?"

"Is that what you want me to see?" L tossed back. "Actually _saying_ what you mean does wonders for communication."

The arm slid from L like a serpent, and he found himself turned to face the brunet as he was pushed back against the wall.

Held at arm's length, he met the odd stare of the other man. Neither of them blinked as their gazes clashed and wrestled with silent transmissions.

"Give me something to work with," L said stubbornly. "You can't plan everything ahead and account for every potential outcome. If you insist on that, you'll fail."

"It's worked just fine for years."

"Yes, and maybe I'm different. Maybe your carefully laid plans just won't work with me."

Raito's lips twisted, and L was ready for the lash of sharp words that the brunet seemed to deal out when he felt compromised. "High opinion of yourself, Lawliet?"

"Have things progressed as you imagined, Raito? Are your usual methods making things go as you like?"

"Of course," Raito snapped, hands falling from L's shoulders. They both knew it was a lie.

"Why then do you feel as if you are not in control? _That_ wasn't a lie, was it?"

"Dammit," Raito said, turning away. "Sometimes I swear I hate you."

"You chose me because you thought I'd be able to see you," L pressed. "Didn't you?" Raito's back was rigid. "Yet you don't want to be seen; it makes you angry, because being seen means you are no longer in absolute control."

"Stop talking," Raito said in a quiet voice.

"Only if you start."

The brunet's fists clenched at his sides and released after a long moment. "What would you do if I left you in here?"

For a little while, or forever? That was the question. L remained silent, sensing more words on the brunet's lips.

"Without clothing, without your cell phone..."

The intimidation irritated L, partially because he wouldn't put it past Raito to do such a thing. "Before or after I turned this room upside-down and found out everything there was to know about you?"

"After."

"I suppose I'd use the computer that is so conveniently upon the desk over there to indicate my location and extricate myself from the room. Unfortunately for you, it would not cast a flattering shine to your reputation that I would need such help in order to leave your residence."

"Is that all?"

"I would be pissed off, of course, and I can't say that I wouldn't make you pay for it."

Raito turned with an intake of breath, his eyes containing a slight shine that was incalculable. "And nowhere within that time would you attempt to do as Aiber was planning? Even had I intended to leave you in here to expire, the laptop's presence being an oversight?"

"You don't make such oversights."

Raito looked like he was rolling that thought around in his mind, and the edge he'd held faded back until he was the calm, in-control person he'd always appeared to be. "True."

"Has breakfast occurred to you?" L asked.

"Yes, but it seemed unimportant at the time."

"Would you mind if we made it a priority for the moment?"

Raito looked at him skeptically. "Not clothing first? I'm shocked."

"My stomach is growling." L paused. "Though pants would be nice."

A pensive look crossed Raito's face, even as his hand disappeared into his pocket to fish out the door's key. "How do you really feel, that I kept those?"

"The coasters?"

Raito nodded slightly.

L chewed lightly at his lip and considered. "Either I'm becoming immune to some of your eccentricities, or I've decided it isn't as big of a deal as it seemed previously."

The events of last night had probably shell-shocked him enough that he wouldn't retain his standard reactions to things for some time. He owed Raito for the prison scare, but that could come later. Actually, what the coasters were shown to him for, he believed now, was an attempt of the brunet's to come clean. It was a test of sorts, to see what he would do - how he would handle it - and to see if he could be trusted with something more._ 'Bit by bit.'_ Raito was no fool, nor one given to whole-hearted trust. He was testing to see what it was safe for him to entrust L with, and some statements were made solely to gauge how easily he spooked.

_Whatever his reasons, his methods still suck.  
_  
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Raito said, faintly teasing. His playfulness was starting to come back, an indication that the tension was beginning to break.

"For survival, or for state of mind?" L returned.

"Mmn. Point taken." Raito unlocked the door and waved L through.

Once more, the brunet was not taking obvious note of his nudity, in what seemed like a gesture of consideration.

Briefly, L thought upon the curiousness of Raito's use of sexuality to distract and cover up many of his secrets and keep people from getting close, as well as the moments where he had dropped all such tactics altogether. In the bathroom last night, for one. Maybe that had been what made it all seem so excruciatingly real and honest - that the brunet had abstained from such standard behaviors. And now was the same. It lent a quality of seriousness and gravity to everything.

Raito was not attempting to obscure anything, and so it stood to reason, this was the face he showed at his most honest...the unnerving self that liked to impose fear as the method of control, or the angry self that lashed out. It was a sign of insecurity at being so exposed and without artifice, perhaps.

L waited as Raito locked the door again behind them. "Was that a one-time only invitation, or might I have a more leisurely tour later on?"

Raito half-frowned at him. "I guess we'll see."

"You know, secrets are bad for relationships."

Raito scoffed at him as he made his way to the bedroom. "And since when are you an expert?"

"I could say that you're making me into one."

"You could say that, but then again, you aren't abiding by your own 'expert' advice." Raito found a pair of pants he deemed acceptable and tossed them to L to put on.

Raito took that moment to stare at L unabashedly and make him overly aware of his lack of clothing again as he tried to dress. L cursed the brunet's ability to make him so self-conscious. "You think I should have told you about Aiber's intentions."

"Yes," Raito responded without hesitation, giving him a look that said _'What are you, stupid?'_ "For possessing such intellect, you're incredibly adept at making it seem absent."

L glared at him (and such a look was much more effective when one wasn't feeling a breeze on one's nether regions). "How would I have even broached the subject with you? You're as paranoid as I am, and I dare say _moreso_. Would you not have just suspected me as being a willing accomplice? Or if he hadn't tried to go through with it after all, what would that make you think of me then?"

"I don't know, but you still should have told me."

"...I did try."

"Not nearly hard enough."

L crossed his arms over his chest, a frown turning down the edges of his mouth. "You have more to say. Go on and get it all out now."

Raito gave him a withering look. "Even if he hadn't gone through with it, it would have been nice to at least be prepared for that eventuality."

"Well, I was half hoping you didn't really have much to hide."

"And in that case, you thought you might offend me with a warning?"

"Sort of..." L admitted. "But maybe I'll just risk your indignation in the future. The alternative, in which I was given the opportunity to become acquainted with the inside of a prison, was hardly more acceptable." Yes, it was a jab. A completely and utterly justified one at that, if L were to express his opinion on it.

"Are you still angry about that?" the brunet queried loftily as if the very notion of it was beyond passé.

"Wouldn't you be?" L snapped, employing the_ 'What, are you stupid?'_ look himself this time.

Raito shrugged, infuriatingly dodging the question (which probably meant he would have been incensed in L's place), and said, "So, breakfast?"

"Why don't you cook something? In penance for making me sit in an interrogation room, tied to a chair, and with a sack on my head?"

Raito tilted his head consideringly and consulted the clock. "Hmn. Not enough time. We have work in under an hour."

Now L had progressed to a _'What the hell?'_ look. "Come again?"

"Work," Raito reiterated. "It's Monday."

"It was the 'we' part I was having trouble with, actually."

"Didn't I tell you?" Raito smiled. "You start today."

"Raito..." L said, a look of utmost disdain on his face, "In all seriousness, I think I hate you."

"Fantastic," Raito said with just enough misplaced enthusiasm that it tweaked L's nerves, before pressing a kiss upon his lips. "We can swing by your place for some clothing that will actually fit you."

L grumbled. "Just what are you trying to say?"

"That you're gorgeous," Raito said as he headed for the kitchen, "but most certainly do not work out like I do."

"You know," L said indignantly, "there is a time and a place for sarcasm..."

"Have you ever seen the inside of a gym?" the brunet asked.

"I _have_."

L withstood the weight of Raito's skepticism and raised eyebrow for a full 30 seconds before adding, "Though I wasn't actually there to use it."

"Then I wasn't being sarcastic, was I?"

"It was more about the other part, actual-"

"Here, cereal," Raito cut him off, placing a bowl in his hands.

L accepted it and took a bite, a pensive look on his face as he chewed. "Watari is not going to like this."

* * *

Indeed, Watari (Lawliet's... caretaker? ...supervisor? Raito still wasn't sure which) did not, in fact, like anything about it - least of all Raito himself.

The older man had looked upon him in surprise when he answered the door to find Raito there.

Lawliet, meanwhile, had had a minor altercation with the door locks in his car. It was amusing to hear him spluttering in muffled tones in the cage of the vehicle as he wrestled out of the seat belt and fought to reverse the child safety locks and release himself from the car before Raito could reach the front door. He'd foolishly thought that Raito would wait outside while he changed, thereby avoiding the older man with the white mustache who was currently viewing Raito's proffered hand with distaste.

And maybe that would have been slightly more pleasant, Raito mused as Lawliet scrambled up to them, a little ruffled around the edges.

The detective composed himself only seconds after skidding to a halt, just long enough to meet Raito's curious (and innocent) look with a baleful glare, smoothing his visage into the blank slate he often liked to cover everything up with.

It seemed he was anxious.

Not that Raito couldn't see why. Watari seemed peeved and the fact that he nearly had to look over Raito's shoulder in order to see Lawliet probably wasn't helping.

A thin hand rested briefly on Raito's upper arm as Lawliet squeezed past him to face the older man squarely.

"Where have you _been_?" Watari asked, his white brows rising in consternation.

Raito, though he felt the urge to respond to that question, kept silent. He knew it wouldn't be appreciated if he interfered any more than he had. Lawliet was an independent creature. If he pushed too hard, or attempted to control too much, he'd get his hand bitten off.

"Later, Watari. Right now I have an appointment to get to."

"You also have clients that have been trying unsuccessfully to reach you."

Lawliet's face adopted a sour look, and Raito was more than happy to sit back and watch such things when they were not being directed at him. "Are you trying to tell me that I am unable to be away from work for even part of a day? And it's the weekend! Can they not leave a message?"

"It ceased being the weekend 9 hours ago," Watari pointed out.

"God help them if I tried to take a vacation."

The older man's expression shifted into one of perplexed concern. "A vacation? From what? What would you do with yourself?"

"Go to the beach?" Raito suggested with a straight face, unable to help making the joke. Twin glares dismissed his statement with brute force.

"Quillish?" a feminine voice called out from inside the house.

Moments later, Celia appeared in the doorway, a confused look on her face as she viewed them all on the stoop. "What are you all doing out here?"

"I have an appointment," Lawliet said. "And I would like to change my attire."

"Goodness, dear," Celia chided, herding Watari to the side. "Go on and get what you need then. Come in, come in." She then proceeded to thoroughly cow the older man with a look and a few hushed words, which Raito took great amusement in.

Even better, Raito thought, was when she turned to him to make polite conversation while he waited. He turned on his charm full blast, winning her over easily and digging the British man's grave, one smile at a time.

* * *

With a little effort, Raito had managed to convince the detective that it really was necessary to come to work with him, which was not a lie. It sounded like one, he'd admit, but having Lawliet on retainer was a strategic move of the utmost importance and he needed him to be there. Also, Raito wanted him there.

Raito felt he was doing surprisingly well on so little sleep and no coffee. Maybe that was the key - sleeping less made it easier to get up? But it was probably just the tension of the last many hours that had enabled him to rouse himself from unconsciousness even sooner than the insomniac he'd come to need more than sleep.

He'd decided on a whim to let Lawliet into the room, but he couldn't stand to leave it perfectly as it was. He'd awoken and gone straight to arranging it in a fashion he found to be acceptable - just as the detective had later accused him of.

It was no error in judgment to reveal the existence of the coasters first, and gauge his companion's reaction to that. Other things could come later, and only if Raito deemed that it was safe to do so. There were certainly some questionable things in his past, and he wanted to make deadly sure that Lawliet could be trusted not to divulge a single thing - no matter what his personal feelings might be. It was imperative.

The problem was if the detective would not cooperate with such a plan. If he declined the sort of relationship Raito would require, one that was close, binding, and sworn to secrecy - the only sort Raito would be able to have if he were to let someone in, behind the masks and into the reality of his true self. Yes, Lawliet declining such a thing would be quite a problem, because Raito had already decided that it _had_ to be him. It had to be Lawliet, and no one else would do.

It made him just a touch crazy to realize that.

Just a touch insane to realize that.

So, he decided that if Lawliet did not seem inclined or amenable, he would train the dark-haired intellectual into it. It was the only option, after all.

Maybe that seemed maladjusted of him.

Maybe.

But he didn't really give a shit how it came off, just as long as Lawliet could be what he needed.

It was infuriating, having someone be able to see him so clearly - Lawliet was right. Infuriating. Exhilarating. Half of him thrilled to it, while the other half was inclined to wring the detective's slender neck.

* * *

L rushed up the stairs, determined not to leave Raito and Watari in each other's presence for too long. The brunet had that look, and it seemed it was perfectly acceptable to him to make things as uncomfortable as possible. L had also caught the beginnings of a brilliant, glimmering smile aimed at Watari's female companion, and it did not take a genius to see how that scenario would play out.

Though if Raito did manage to win her over, perhaps she would talk Watari into being a little more reasonable regarding the two of them spending time in each other's acquaintance.

L unbuttoned his rumpled black shirt and tossed it onto the floor.

Of course, Raito might merely be doing his best to irritate Watari into submission and make him a solid enemy... out of some misplaced sense of justice, most likely. Watari had been rather dismissive and had made plain that he did not approve of the brunet in any way, shape, or form.

L located a dark grey, cable-knit pullover that had flecks of lighter and darker colors in it and a pair of black silk denim pants. It was almost like wearing normal jeans, only the sheen they possessed made them look fancy and so they could be worn in less casual environments. It was the sales rep's pitch, anyway, when struggling to appeal to L's unconventional tastes. But they were comfortable, so he didn't care.

Pulling them up over his hips, he mulled over the brunet.

He tried not to think of Raito as a time bomb waiting to explode... he really did try.

However, experience displayed his quick-minded companion's propensity for drama and the unexpected. Experience dictated that steely nerves were needed if one were to coexist with The Brunet Of The Dazzling Smile.

He pulled the knit sweater over his head, calculating the minutes he'd been away, then finger-combed his unruly spiked hair into some semblance of order.

Yes, he did in fact own a brush. But the brush and his hair were mortal enemies, and he was often caught in the crossfire. He didn't feel up to the task at the moment, nor did he have the luxury of time.

As he descended the stairs, he caught Raito's sidelong glance and also noted that Watari had been watching for him expectantly.

"L, a moment?" Watari asked before he'd even made it to the landing.

"Ah..." This promised to be both cumbersome and unavoidable. "Certainly," he acquiesced reluctantly.

Raito was watching him, he knew, as they detoured into the kitchen - he could feel the brunet's gaze upon his back, burning a hole through his shirt and into his flesh.  
_  
Maybe I should take the leading statement...? _L wondered as they turned the corner._ Would that give me better standing? More control?_ Perhaps. "About Raito," he began dubiously.

Watari waved him off. "You're a grown man. You can make your own mistakes as you see fit."

"Mistakes?" L cut in. "What gives you the ability or the right to judge my acquaintance to be such?"

"You've been all over the place the last several weeks," Watari said directly. "How many qualifications do I need to be able to point out what anyone can see - that he's a bad influence on you? You haven't been acting like yourself at all, you've been keeping strange hours, dressing abnormally, for you, and you've been negligent in your work."

"Some of that is completely unrelated to Raito. You'd have known that if you'd bothered to ask."

Watari waved him off again and it was irritating. "I've seen his type before. I know where this sort of thing leads, and I just wanted to give you fair warning." He fixed L with his pale gaze. "And you should be aware that it is likely something more than friendship that he wants from you."

"Based on what?" L asked, surprised that Watari would say such a thing, and that the older man was apparently concerned for his virtue.

"There are signs. I wouldn't expect you to be aware of them, but they are there."

L wasn't really sure what to say. Of course, such talk was sorely outdated at this stage, but Watari couldn't have known that. "I'll keep that in mind. Was there anything else?"

Watari sighed. "Yes. Have you been in communication with Aiber recently?"

_BAM! _Several of L's neural synapses imploded in an effect largely like congestive heart failure. "Why do you ask?" he delayed, trying to collect himself after the unexpected question. Now he felt jumpy and his palms were sweating a little. Last he knew, Aiber was supposedly in police custody. He still wasn't entirely sold on that, and dwelling upon it put him on edge. He needed to speak with Raito again on this matter, and he needed to verify the other detective's status.

"Well, as much as Sakizawa likes to flip-flop between agencies, apparently he tried to contact Aiber Sunday evening and has yet to receive a response. He said it was unusual not to be able to get in touch with him at all, and remembered hearing that you and Aiber sometimes work together, so he asked if we could check into it."

"He wants us to help him contact our competition for him?"

The older man's mustache drooped. "It is poor etiquette, I agree. But that has always been characteristic of him, has it not?"

L rubbed his hand through unruly jags of dark hair. "That's true." Yes, he definitely needed to talk to Raito before doing anything of consequence.

"Doesn't it seem strange for him to drop out of touch now of all times? He was so recently making a nuisance of himself."

"I'll try to contact him, and will let you know if I am successful."

Watari nodded, and L was able to excuse himself from the kitchen.

Raito's eyes marked him immediately. "Finished?"

"I believe so."

Was that one of the signs Watari was talking about? The way Raito's amber eyes trailed his movements, tracking him like a predator? But it was often so subtle that even he didn't notice the brunet doing it. Was it the way their body language sometimes came to mimic one another's? A hand smoothing down the front of a shirt or resting hooked in a pants' pocket? The tilt of a head? The identical expressions they often wore when in agreement on something, apparent when they shared a glance?

Or, ye gods, could it be the way that just now after taking his arm to hurry him along, Raito looked tempted to ply him with an impromptu kiss?  
_  
Don't do it._

He tried to pull his arm back, but Raito's grip was absolute. Like losing one's balance in slow motion, so did it seem that the brunet was coming recklessly closer at great speed while also seeming to take an eternity. And Raito's face bore that petulant, entitled look, shot through with irritation. It often accompanied attempts to get his way.

L scrunched his eyes shut, unable to watch this unfold - wishing that the front door was already between them and the room's other occupants.

He felt the displacement of air as Raito drew close.

"Part of you wants me to, you know," Raito whispered into his ear. "And don't you think it might be easier if everyone knew?"

"Not now," L whispered back.

"When then?" Raito persisted in a silky tone. "When it's even _more_ obvious that you're letting me violate you?"

L felt his face flush instantly at such words, and cursed the brunet vehemently for being able to accomplish it, despite his efforts to ward it off.

"A kiss seems a much more chaste and refined way of doing things, doesn't it?"

L glanced quickly over his shoulder to verify what he was already certain of. "Perhaps, but it's no longer necessary, thanks to you." Celia and Watari had both seen the embarrassment of the blush that Raito had raised on his cheeks. There wasn't much room for interpretation what with Raito standing so close and speaking into his ear like this.

Raito could really be a bastard sometimes.

"Don't worry, Lawliet," Raito said as he pulled back, in a voice that would be easily overheard as he began leading him towards the door, "I know Misa's flattery can be a bit over the top, but even she is given to behaving herself in more... official venues."

L blinked. Raito was actually taking pains to smooth this out? His statement was entirely misleading... more applicable to the brunet than to himself, but...

"Um, excuse me," Celia spoke up. "But that wouldn't happen to be Miss Amane Misa, would it?"

Raito turned, a delighted smile brightening his face as he said, "Do you know her?"

L fought the urge to roll his eyes at the impeccable performance.

"Oh! Now that you mention it," she said, "I _thought_ you looked familiar! I've seen the two of you on television before. But I must admit I thought you were a couple?"

"Once upon a time," Raito said dramatically. "We've since gone our separate ways, though we continue to work closely. She's no longer single, but I have to say she has her eyes on our organization's new detective already." Raito gave L's arm a boisterous little shake. "Amazing, isn't he?"

L wanted to smack his hand over his face.

"New detective?" Watari asked, pinning L with a very stern look.

"It's only temporary," L said, hoping that it was.

"Oh, but Quillish, did you hear what he said?" Celia said with excitement. "Our little L is catching the eye of people like Miss Amane!"

_'Our little L'? _L raised a brow at Watari. _What, so now I'm being adopted?_

Watari shrugged helplessly, and Celia danced up to L and pinched his cheek affectionately, tickled pink at the misleading statements Raito had fed her.

"I'm afraid that if we do not leave now, we'll be dreadfully late," Raito said, his voice playing regret like a fine violin. "I'll be sure to give Misa your regards." To Watari, he said, "Good seeing you again." He spoke in a pleasant voice just brimming with congeniality.

Steering L once more by the arm, they gained the door. Raito gave them a small wave before closing it behind them, then tilted L's face up by the chin.

"Don't say I never do anything for you," he murmured, pupils dilating as he claimed the other's mouth as he had been wanting to do.

* * *

TBC


	17. Day One

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 17

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N: **I'm employed now, yay. :) Hope you all are doing lovely.

I pine for my new phone. I wait and wait. And wait. (I hate waiting) And then I wait some more. For it will not be out until perhaps June. *struggles with the gimped splitting keys on current phone* And, dammit, I want the new model. I want the thing, and it will be my first of these things, and it will not be for a fashion statement. It will be so _useful_.

............they should rename it the 'iwant'.

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

_

* * *

_

Part 17: (Day One)

"Do you think I should have worn a suit?" L asked dubiously, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible as they navigated the foreign hallways of a building that felt too large and too full of people.

Raito, being one of the suit-wearing multitude, was not one of L's favorite people at the moment.

Raito's eyes slid over him briefly. "What for? You're perfect."

L suspected the unseeing glance was merely to humor him, which he did not appreciate. He trailed after the brunet, feeling like a third wheel in a tire factory; a feat, he admitted to himself as he hid within Raito's shadow. It was both easy (people were inclined to look at Raito) and difficult (people were inclined to look at Raito - then they wondered who the hell he had trailing him like a lost puppy). Raito certainly did not lack for popularity here, and his ever-present smile both irritated L and made him stare in admiration at just how many people looked like they would walk on a bed of nails just to bask in its presence a little longer. It went without saying that L was on the receiving end of more suspicious and assessing stares than usual.

L retreated to the inner depths of his being, deciding that a readjustment was necessary.

There were more people than he'd anticipated, which made him twitch a little, and the extra attention could be unnerving, but he was looking at this all wrong. This was a chance to observe Raito in his natural element. It was a valuable learning experience, and the opportunity might never again present itself.

He nodded to himself and settled into a more relaxed gait, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Now would also be a great time to practice a pleasant expression. True, the ones he was seeing everywhere around him looked fake, but they seemed to be the norm, and what everyone was comfortable with...

The first smile he adopted startled a woman into nearly spilling her coffee.

He quickly discarded that one. Raito had even turned back to him to see what the problem was, but luckily his blank face fell back into place before then and he merely shrugged.  
_  
I need to be more careful._

The second smile was marginally more successful than the first, but instead of looking like a homicidal maniac, he apparently looked a bit demented, judging by the way people were shying around them.

Again, Raito looked back at him, but there was nothing to see.

_Strike two?_

L thought harder about what he wanted his expression to convey. There were things that made him happy that he could use as inspiration, but it was likely to come off strangely if he, for instance, pondered the glories of sweets while he looked around. People might take him to be a cannibal this time.

...still...

He didn't have a _lot_ of inspiration.

He couldn't afford to waste one.

This time it was a young man carrying a briefcase that suddenly shrieked and flattened against the wall.

_Oops._

And then Raito had him by the arm and was dragging him out of the main hallway and into the alcove of a doorway.

"What are you doing?" the brunet hissed. He looked perplexed.

"Me? Why would I be doing something?"

Raito gave him a look.

It was hard to quantify or describe that look, but it was one that amply informed him of a distinct lack of patience. In any case, it wasn't the sort of thing he wanted aimed at him for too long.

"I was... practicing..." L said reluctantly, suddenly finding the wall on the other side of Raito to be of great interest.

Raito stared at him with that dissecting gaze, and his expression gradually shifted to one more along the lines of pity and grudging responsibility. "Sometimes I forget..." he said, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms with a sigh. "All right, show me."

L really did not want to.

He said as much.

"Humor me," Raito replied.

L sighed.

"In order," the brunet added, "so I can place the reactions."

L glared at him a little. _Bastard._ He wasn't _trying_ to startle people. "I thought we were going to be late?" he said, trying to redirect his companion's focus.

"Only as late as you make us."

Ugh.  
_  
Ok, here goes._ Smile one.

Raito's mouth twitched at the corner, but he basically kept a straight face.

Smile two.

Raito raised a brow. He was beginning to look amused.

Smile three.

Then, after a long moment of flagging patience.... "Raito, get up off of the floor, there is no need to laugh that hard," L said with annoyance.

"I'm...sorry..." Raito gasped, trying to compose himself and failing miserably. He was shaking with silent laughter and had slid down into a crouch, leaning against the wall for support.

"Raito!" L hissed under his breath rather helplessly. "People are looking!"

Appearances being as important as they were, Raito made a greater effort to pull himself together. It lasted for all of 5 seconds, then looking at L's face set him off again.

L wondered if kicking him would help him be less amused.

He supposed it was a good thing that not _everyone_ was looking into the alcove as they passed.

Raito waved him closer, as if he had something to say, positively beaming with mirth. L scowled at him, but complied.

As soon as he was within reach, Raito pulled him down by the neck of his sweater and kissed him. Not a lingering kiss, but a hard press of lips which L could feel were curved into a smile. Raito's eyes were shining as he let L pull back. "There is absolutely no one like you," he said in a gleeful voice.

"Thank you, I think," L said dryly.

"It's a compliment. It is," Raito insisted at the resounding look of skepticism that came in response, though he was still laughing. "I could probably spend my entire life being surprised by the things you do."

"Proposing already, Yagami-kun?" L said drolly. "I'm flattered."

"So you'd agree to monogamy that easily?" Raito teased, suddenly a lot more serious. "I'll have to keep that in mind."

L refused to let himself blush. And he succeeded, he was pretty sure. "You're the one that has a problem with that, not me."

Raito put a finger to L's lips. "Keep talking that way, and we'll be a lot longer to our destination, Lawliet." His voice had dropped down into the tones reserved for the sex voice, and his eyes had that predatory look in them.

"It's true, though," L maintained, not willing to cede the point.

"Do you desire that from me?" Raito asked, rising to his feet.

L took a step back as Raito stepped forward, his gaze oddly focused all of a sudden. "Ah..." He sort of didn't like admitting it again just now, for some reason.

"Even after all you've seen?" Ratio pressed, backing him up into the other wall step by step.

"Er..." L said eloquently. He didn't want to appear to be completely all right with all of the other stuff, because he _wasn't_... but...

"Tell me, Lawliet," Raito said, closing in on him, never losing that lazy, captivatingly fixed look. He drew closer still, until L lost sight of him and could do nothing but breathe in the scent of him as lips hovered mere breaths away from his own. "I want to hear you say it."

L couldn't think when the brunet had him cornered like this. His body certainly didn't understand who was the boss of it, and it was **not** Raito. "I-I don't want to say it again, you've heard it enough already."

Raito's lips brushed his, pulled gently at his, until L's mind was spiraling out of his control, and his body was thrumming.

"Tell me, Lawliet," Raito demanded again in a slow, husky voice that made him positively ache.

It was bad enough that the brunet could do this to him, but the setting left much to be desired.

"I've always wanted monogamy," L forced himself to say. He couldn't stand much more sexual tension, and definitely not if he needed to have half a brain to work with later. "But especially with you."

"Good," Raito practically purred, sinking into his mouth like it was water to drink in during the dead of summer.

L wondered faintly if Raito was this unconcerned about misconduct in the workplace, or if he cared that little when pursuing other flights of fancy.

Several scattered moments later, a faint buzzing caught their attention and Raito pulled back with a curse as he answered his phone.

The brunet's eyes closed as he chased the evidence of arousal from his face, expression, and demeanor. It took him a moment, lasting the course of several very curt responses before he resembled the cool, calculating businessman once more. He kept his eyes from L when they did open, and L was reminded of the time Raito had taken the call from Misa where he had done the very same thing. It was like he had to shut L out in order to play the parts he'd already committed to playing.  
_  
Do I really have that much of an effect on him? That looking at me might compromise the careful control over his exterior?_

It seemed a wild and ridiculous notion.

And yet.... there was no other reason for Raito to avoid looking at him.

"Alright, I can be there in approximately 20 minutes. Will that suffice?"

Raito stared into the alcove, not really looking at it at all, his attention affixed to the phone he held to his ear. "Mmhmm." Pause. "I need to introduce the new detective to a few key players before sitting in." Pause. "Yes, that's right." A short laugh. "Yeah, see you in 20."

He snapped his phone shut. "What impeccable timing," he said dourly.

"Well," L said. "You are expected to_ work_ while you're at work, are you not?"

"Don't tempt me to answer that the way I'd like to." Raito said with a flicker of weighty, slanted eyes, before he breathed a dramatic sigh. "Which might involve strapping you to a bed, spread-eagle, for the next several hours...."

"I hope you aren't implying that such a thing is a possibility I should be looking forward to in the future?"

L wasn't sure what he would make of such a thing. His heart had skipped in a manner that could be taken for interest or anxiety at the notion. He was pretty sure it was anxiety. Unfortunately, he had the sneaking suspicion that even were he to be staunchly against it, the brunet would find some way past his defenses. That smile was a force to be reckoned with, as was the voice and... well... the whole package, really. So, in a word, L was doomed.

"You'd love it," Raito assured him dismissively. "I could see black leather being very becoming on your pale skin."

"No way."

For a moment, Raito stopped looking so distracted with the work-related matters they were about to attend. He turned to L with a smile. "Are you saying you would refuse me?"

L crossed his arms. "Aren't I allowed to?"

"No." A strange gleam sparkled in the brunet's dark amber eyes. "Though I'd wager I could make you see reason. I can be... very persuasive..."

_As if I needed more evidence of __**that**__,_ L scoffed mentally. "A subject we'll have to discuss at a later time. You now have 17 and a half minutes to do whatever it was you just agreed to do in 20."

"Slave master," Raito muttered. "Very well, you'll enjoy_ this_, getting to meet a bunch of happy new faces," the brunet said with a flair of sarcastic levity. "But don't let anyone fool you - they're all cut-throats." He graced L with a baleful glance. "Oh, and please don't try to smile. It'll be better for everyone involved."  
_  
Jerk_, L thought. "Maybe I'll strap _**you**_ to the bed," he grumbled at Raito's back.

"I'd probably enjoy it too much for it to be a proper revenge," the brunet tossed over his shoulder with a smirk in his voice.

_Damn it all, _L thought. _He's probably right._

_

* * *

_

Once again, L was trailing Raito through the halls.

Hands in his pockets, and forbidden smiles, he wondered what expression he _should_ try to make.

'Blank face' just wasn't good in social situations. He needed an alternative.

Staring at Raito's back, he unconsciously started emulating the brunet's posture. In doing so, L realized how atrocious his own could be if he let it get out of hand. Which he usually did. Because really, who was watching him when he was at work in front of his beloved computer at home?

He squared his shoulders, reducing his near perpetual slouch, and decided on 'pensive' as the look to attempt. Aloof and pensive. Yes, as Raito might have looked, were he pondering something. A look that requested others leave him alone so he might concentrate on the most critical items of consequence.

_I am untouchable... _he thought, getting into the role of playing Raito.

_A lone wolf._

_A predator._

_But somehow you think I will not hurt you, innocent onlookers. You are wrong. But for now, you are safe as I have the weight of the world on my mind...  
_  
Oh look, he was getting a different response from people this time. They were still staring but now it was with something more like interest or even...

L almost ran into Raito as the brunet suddenly stopped in the middle of the hallway.

"Lawliet."

"Yes, Raito?"

"Whatever face you are making now, you are absolutely forbidden to make it **ever**." He paused, then added, "Unless you are with me, in private."

L frowned. "But it was meeting with much more success than the previous--"

Raito sent him a glare over his shoulder that was quite emphatic. "EVER," he emphasized under his breath, then set off at a brisk pace.

Just to be sure, L tested his newest expression out one more time, and was now pretty sure that the sort of attention it attracted bordered on sexual. Which meant (haha) the brunet was actually jealous.

That put a smile on his face - a real one - and it allowed him to pass through the rest of the walk without further mishap.

* * *

Those people of note, to whom Raito had to introduce him, were typically cordial as well as unsavory. It was a viscous combination that left L hoping that it would all be over sooner rather than later.

Raito in his element was quite a spectacle to behold, however, and that did mollify L to a great extent. But L's social aversion was kicking up somewhat fiercely and he was in danger of smiling in a manner that hailed back to the beginnings of such facial expressions - the baring of teeth. It was a nervous reaction, not entirely meant to be antagonistic. It was more of an _I-am-harmless-please-leave-me-the-hell-alone_ display than a threat display.

L tried to look stoic. Tried very hard, as he stood beside Raito in the stuffy office that belonged to a woman of import that he just could not remember the name or title of for the life of him, nevermind the plaque on her desk that he couldn't be bothered to read. She was an older woman, by perhaps 15 years. Maybe more, if his suspicion regarding her appetite for facial reconstruction was at all founded. He didn't like her. She had a sharky sort of demeanor and she was both off-putting and solicitous.

"So," she drawled in the manner of a successful seductress, "tell me a little about yourself, L?"

See the slight misalignment near the bridge of her nose? It spoke of the unskilled hand of a Rhinoplastic surgeon. Not that it was entirely noticeable - it was perhaps unfair to say the surgeon was unskilled, or new to the profession, or possibly hung over, merely for the slight imperfection that gave the procedure away.

"Hmn. Does he not speak?" the woman in the severely cut skirt suit turned to Raito and asked with an arching brow.

Raito turned to L as if appraisingly, and gave him a once over. "It's that dedication that decided me on him," he said in a resolved, apologetic voice, acting out the part and shaking his head as if bemused. "However, it does make for bad impressions."

L jumped as Raito thwacked him lightly on the chest with the back of his hand, jolting him out of his distracted thoughts.

"Try to put your other cases aside for the moment," Raito said chidingly, implying that he, the great detective, had been hard at work puzzling out some intricacies while remaining idle as opposed to pondering the vast amounts of money this woman had likely been funding some private practice with.

"My apologies," L said, catching himself before he nearly attempted a smile. He tried for stoic. "It's a habit I've not quite broken."

The woman in the suit looked him over speculatively as she sat on the edge of her desk. L thought the skirt seemed much too short for professional attire, certainly so as she seated herself. "So dedicated..." she mused aloud.

L did not really know how to handle her extended stare, so...

...he pretended she was a lizard and managed to seem nonplussed. Not to say she was unattractive or reptilian, but lizards could go for long amounts of time without blinking, just as she seemed to be doing... and such trivia wasn't really important, lizards were just the first innocuous creature that came to mind. Boy, was this awkward.

She made a show of uncrossing and re-crossing her legs, watching him for a reaction. "And so undistractable..."

L focused on lizards, and not on this curious and disturbing display of.... well, whatever it was _Raito_ was typically doing to him. Only, coming from another person it had an entirely different effect.

"He's more like a machine than something human," Raito said off-handedly. "A good pick for our organization, I would say."

If the brunet was bothered by all of this, he was hiding it well. He seemed completely at ease as the older woman put a pen to her lips and scanned L, obviously, from head to toe. "Or is he not just a great challenge?" she said, her hazel eyes shifting to Raito.

Raito smiled enigmatically. L could feel irritation boiling beneath the surface now. Hidden. Secretive. He refrained from a proper, spoken answer, which L wondered at, but the woman did not seem overly concerned with Raito and did not wait for a response.

"You'll be in the office not infrequently, won't you L?"

L had no earthly idea. "Perhaps," he said.

"Why don't you stop by the next time you're in? I'm sure we could find much to talk about."

Dear god, he would avoid that like the plague. She looked like she wanted to rip his clothes off. Maybe he should try slouching again. Trying to look respectable was not giving him the sort of feedback he wanted to deal with. "If my schedule allows it," he said, trying to close off the invitation without being rude or committing a _faux pas_ that Raito would later berate him for. Anyway, it seemed the sort of answer the brunet might give were he in the same position.

"You have to eat, don't you?" she said, sliding off of the desk and walking over to him. "Surely they'll let you have time enough for lunch? Otherwise... you might just waste away," she trailed, pressing her fingers around his arm as if demonstrating how he was nothing but skin and bones. "And then where would they be?"

"We'll ensure that he's fed," Raito said, humor lacing his voice, though it must have been with effort. He had all the presence of a crackling storm cloud, nearly raising the hair on L's arms, but on the outside, he was perfectly poised. "But for now I must steal him away again. You know how these deadlines can just cut the fun right out of everything."

The woman turned her attention to Raito and smiled this time, moving over to pat his cheek condescendingly, but her voice was warm. "Aren't you just as precious as always? And yet you never find the time to call."

"Amane does like to keep me busy."

"Doesn't he just," she laughed. "And his darling little daughter? How is she treating you?"

"With as much adoration and animosity as is befitting her station."

"She isn't right for you anyway," the older woman responded to the brunet's reference to Misa as an ex. Her hand lingered upon Raito's face. It was irritating to L and he wanted to smack it away, especially as it flirted with tracing Raito's sensual lower lip. "Ito-san is a much more appropriate lapdog."

"Perhaps she'll grow fond of him one of these days."

L felt like a storm was brewing in his own head. He'd dearly love to see Raito do _something_ to remove the hand from his person, or move the entire intruder from his personal space. Or, at the least, not seem like he'd at one point maybe slept with this woman. As it was, L was getting perilously close to doing something about this himself instead of silently grinding his teeth.

"Well then," Raito said, consulting his watch, though the action masked his eyes flicking to L. "It seems that we are out of time." He took the woman's hand in his, clasping it for a moment before the gesture was disengaged. "Please call me if the status of our current project changes. The Chairman expects everything to go smoothly, not that that's possible without intervention."

"Smart boy," the hazel-eyed woman said, giving him a peck on the cheek. "You'll be the first to know when the difficulties begin their rampage."

She showed them out of her office. "It's been a pleasure," she said, her gaze following L out the door.

"How do you survive working here?" L asked Raito as soon as they were out of range. He felt thoroughly harried at being the focus of such undivided, questionable attention.

"Practice," the brunet said simply, refusing to elaborate.

L silently chewed on that as they walked. But silence did not last long.

"Raito!" a voice hailed from across the hall.

L just couldn't even wait to see what this next exchange was going to have in store. Was L thinking of fleeing the country altogether, just so he'd never be expected to set foot in this place ever again? .......yes.

With bowed head, resignation, and a sidelong glance, L watched a tall, dark-haired man stride up to Raito with a faint smile lurking about his lips. His hair was long, nearly reaching his shoulders, and was almost shaggy - in an artful, sophisticated sort of way - with bangs that fell across his brown eyes.

As he caught up to Raito, L realized that the man was actually a touch shorter than the brunet, though he looked infinitely taller at a distance.

"Mikami," Raito greeted him like a friend. "What brings you here on your day off?"

"Loose ends," Mikami said with a smile, his eyes quick and bright behind designer frames. He, too, was wearing a suit and it looked as if it was a hideously expensive one at that.

L took an instant disliking to him. He probably would never admit that it was largely due to the fact that the two of them seemed to really get along. Still... he supposed it was good if Raito liked at least one of his coworkers. Maybe.

"You're catching me at a loss for time," Raito said ruefully. "I have a meeting in..." he glanced at his watch. "...less than five minutes."

"Well, when you are less at a loss, I'd love to hear how Tanaka's case unfolded. For you having spent so much time on it, it certainly wrapped up quickly at the end."

"Of course." Raito excused them with a brandishing of his watch and a quick wave. They resumed their quick pace down the hall.

"Asshole," Raito muttered once they were out of ear-shot, startling L.

"Wait," L said in confusion, "I thought you liked him?"

"Hell, no," Raito snarled. "That opportunistic little bastard's been coasting off of my hard work for a while now."

"How so?"

Raito glanced at L briefly as they continued their fast walk, lowering his voice as he explained. "The Chairman often feels the need to call me off of personal projects in order to do things for him. I could handle it all, but some of the bloodsuckers here like to grab up what I've been working on, and finish it off while I am otherwise detained."

"To meet deadlines?" L asked.

"No. It's just to make themselves look good. And, simply because they can. There is no rule against it, _per se_, but most of them have the grace to know their place at least some of the time. Mikami is the worst offender. I swear he just loves to piss me off."

_Sounds like Aiber and myself_, L thought. He wondered if he should be concerned in any fashion over the brunet's annoyingly attractive coworker.

"All right, I really do have to get into that meeting immediately," Raito said. "Follow this hall and on the left, just before you come to the end, is a half-kitchen where you can get some coffee. I'll be done as soon as I can."

"Okay."

L watched Raito take the rightmost branch of the forking hallway. The brunet made such a striking figure as he strode purposely down the hall, his lean form utterly at home in the pompous atmosphere of his labyrinthine workplace.

L turned and headed for the kitchen, not wishing to have too many witnesses to his distant gaze as he watched and pondered the well-known brunet. One or two gawkers was about the limit of what he could stand on that matter. Person number three hadn't yet noticed the object of his attention, but looked as if they were about to ask if he needed directions. Best to beat a hasty retreat.

He prayed that there would be no one occupying the kitchen when he came to it.

He'd probably had more social contact in the last few weeks than in his entire life, and it was wearing him thin. After this, he'd be quite relieved to return to the quiet grind of constant work. Away from public places... away from the constant sea of unfamiliar faces...

At the moment, it was actually difficult to remember the feeling of solitude and crushing seclusion that had begun his mad experiments which had ultimately led him here, to this place. At the moment, he was fairly certain he missed it.

To his chagrin, the seemingly quiet kitchen was not as unoccupied as it had appeared before he rounded the corner. The low murmur of female voices ceased as proximity brought their owners into audible range, and himself into visual range.

He sort of froze, unable to do more than inwardly cringe as they all stared at him. Objectivity and the pioneering spirit he'd had not long ago when Raito had been with him had fled.

Which led to the horrifying thought that his ability to deal with this place, and the people within it, actually hinged on the brunet's presence. Utterly horrifying.

One by one, they all seemed prodded into motion, muttering to each other as they eyed him, and filed out of the kitchen with their styrofoam cups of coffee. He stepped aside apologetically, merely trying to be polite and not block the exit, but that earned him even stranger looks from the four office workers.

Oh, his head was starting to hurt.

The tribe of women, having exited the stage, gave him free reign over the kitchen and returned his ability to breathe instead of holding it in.  
_  
God, you'd think I would have this down by now.  
_  
But wasn't that being too hard on himself? For the most part, his interactions had been almost exclusively with Raito... how much practice had he had with_ others_?

Aiber didn't count.  
_  
Ugh._ L rubbed a hand over his face and took a chair at the small table the half-kitchen provided. Who else could he count? Scattered non-dealings with Misa? Hell, he'd unintentionally seen her practically naked, but he couldn't say they'd ever really conversed. Mother and Father Yagami? The sister?

Bad memories, all of them.

So what did this mean? Were Raito and Watari the only people in this world he could speak to without gnawing his own eyeballs out with anxiety? And Raito.... it was ridiculous that he should have that ranking when his very presence could be so nerve-wracking and unpredictable. Not to mention other things....

Footsteps closed in on the kitchen, and L decided to pick up his cell phone in order to distract himself while he waited for Raito, as well offer an excuse as to why he would be avoiding talking to any lost souls that came here in search of coffee. It was well known that one should not bother people who looked busy, right?

Hard-soled shoes clicked quietly on the glossy kitchen floor as the office worker entered and rummaged around in the cabinets.

_Probably a man, judging by the sound of the shoes, _L thought absently as he reviewed his recent messages; the office worker made clunking noises with the coffee pot as he took out the carafe and poured a cup. L did sort of hope it was not that Mikami guy. Seeing as they had sort of met, the likelihood that he would be disturbed, despite his preoccupation with his phone, was exponentially greater than it would have been with anyone else. Plus, the guy made him nervous with his designer eyeglasses, his confident air, and his secretive smiles. _What would I even say to him?_

L shook his head slightly, dispelling the thought, and typing out an email._ I mean, what are the odds?_ he thought.

An arm in his peripheral vision, setting down a cup of coffee on the table, startled him.

_Oh god, they aren't going to sit here--?  
_  
"What are the odds of meeting you here?" a familiar voice said with what passed for pleasantry, as well as a hint of amusement. "Coffee?" they offered, sliding the cup in front of him.

L's eyes reluctantly followed the hand up the arm... to the shoulder... and eventually to the face that belonged to the voice's owner. It really wasn't even necessary in order to identify the speaker. "Indeed...." he said, fighting the urge to stand and thus keep them from looking down on him like that. "What are the odds..."

"So, do you work here now or something?"

"That is, as of yet, undetermined," L said. "And you?"

Aiber smiled as L lost his internal battle and got to his feet. The chair screeched awfully upon the floor as it scraped back. "I'm not at liberty to say," Aiber stated breezily. "Though I can foresee us running into each other more frequently in the near future."

"I don't think so."

Aiber put his own coffee down on the table, giving him a slanted look. "I disagree." He cut a menacing figure as he tilted his head back and viewed L speculatively. "And I believe now is just one example of many that is going to prove my point."

L was rather stuck on the fact that Aiber was not only alive, well, and as pushy as usual, but that he was.... walking around freely. "Does Raito know that you are here?"

Aiber scowled and strode suddenly towards L, quickly backing him against the wall of the tiny kitchen. He slammed his open palm alongside L's head, making him jump. "You think that little prick has any control over me?" he sneered.

L steeled himself and glared back at the ice blue eyes that were glinting vindictively less than a foot away. "Well, seeing as the last time I saw you, you were being taken into custody, I wondered."

"A temporary inconvenience," the stronger man said darkly. "And what of you? Still under his sway when he treats you so indifferently? Did you enjoy the other night as much as I did, I wonder?" He sneered. "Or afterwards, did he give you a _softer_ touch?"

Mocking. His voice was dripping with it, his eyes were flashing with it and brimmed with discontent that he looked like he wanted to take out on someone. He leaned in closer, staring down into L's face with his extra height. L blanched as a rough hand gripped his chin. "And all it did was make me more resolute."

L gripped that hand and tried to pry it off. The angle at which his head was then promptly tilted made removing it exceedingly difficult.

Aiber drifted closer, making L's heart hammer in his chest. Trapped... He was pinioned in place and, despite his wariness, he was once again finding himself in a very difficult situation. Iced-blue eyes were leveled at him with intensity.

"I haven't forgotten the feel of you against me," Aiber murmured.

L shuddered as his words evoked images he didn't want to recall, of this same situation only with darkness and the smell of concrete and his own helplessness as Aiber had plied him with his own uncertainty... As Aiber had exploited and took advantage of his indecision, and wrapped a noose around his neck... As Aiber had pursued him with whispered words such as the ones he'd just uttered... And as Aiber's body had pressed wrongfully up against his own with visceral desire.

"I'm well on my way in trying to forget it," L ground out, fighting off another shudder. "Let go of me."

"I won't let you forget," Aiber said darkly. The man's blond, wavy hair was falling forward as he leaned in to L's captive face.

L didn't have anywhere to go, his head was tilted at such a harsh angle that he had to stand up nearly on tiptoe to alleviate the strain, and the wall at his back was probably the only thing that allowed him to keep his balance.

"I asked after you," L said quickly, hoping to distract Aiber from closing the distance between them, and possibly give himself an opportunity to get out of this choke-hold. "I did my best to ensure that you would be ok--"

"I'll make my mark so deep upon you that you can never forget."

L flinched. Once again, the blond man wasn't listening, and his disturbing words were chasing chills down L's spine. "Let go of me right now." L struggled harder as that violating mouth orbited his, skimming it lightly as if drawing out the inevitable. That horrid shaking was starting up in his limbs again.

"Aiber!" He would use violence again if he had to. "Don't make me hurt you."

"Hurt me all you like," Aiber said, licking L's mouth.

The slick transgression slithered through him, crumbling the final bastion of his self-restraint.

L grabbed the man's immovable arm with _both_ hands, using the appendage as a fulcrum so that he could swing a well-placed kick at Aiber's midsection.

For a moment, he thought Aiber had anticipated him in time - the blond's hand had started to drop - but then he felt the solid connection of his leg against flesh and heard the sound of impact as it left Aiber's throat in a growl. Then he was falling, completely unsupported as the larger detective buckled over.  
_  
Shit, this is going to hurt, _he thought in the instant before he hit the ground.

_Fwoosh! _The air left his lungs as if it had been sucked out, even though he had broken his fall as best he could. He'd managed not to hit his head, but he felt dazed. "Ughhh..." he coughed.

"Not one of your better ideas," Aiber said, hauling L up into a sitting position by the collar of his sweatshirt with one hand, the other held protectively over his drop-kicked stomach.

"If you would just listen to reason--" L's head swam, cutting his flow of words short. "Dammit..."

In the next moment, Aiber's mouth covered his_, _questing, probing._ Opportunistic bastard!_ L thought angrily as he fought the defiling, invasive exploitation, pushing at broad shoulders._ Thank god I didn't hit my head and get a concussion - he'd probably do the gallant thing and_ _freaking_ _**rape**__ me._

L was gearing up to give Aiber that swift kick in the nuts that he owed him from the _last_ time when Aiber pulled back.

"What are you thinking?!" L hissed, a little shaken up and slightly out of breath. When had the man gone insane, he demanded to know. Just _when_ exactly?! "We're in a corporate break room, for god's sake!"

"Would it make a difference if it were somewhere else?"

"Yes--!" L started to say with exasperation, then realized Aiber meant '_Would you let me have my way_ if it were somewhere else?'. "I mean, NO," he corrected quickly, "It wouldn't change the fact that I am not doing this with you. Ever."

"You aren't making me feel inclined to give you a choice, with that attitude."

Aiber straightened from his crouch and pulled L to his feet.

"And you're making me feel inclined to really hurt you," L ground out, resenting the ever-present hand on the collar of his shirt.

"I can take anything you've got," Aiber said, returning his hard gaze and pushing him against the wall again at arm's length. "And _I will_. It's all I was thinking about in there. That and making Yagami's life a living hell."

"I won't let you do that," L warned.

"How are you planning on stopping me?" Aiber laughed. "You're not taking the _only-option-you-have_ very seriously."

"I'm **not** letting you have sex with me," L said indignantly. "There's no way."

"You almost did the last time," Aiber said, searching his face like there was some other truth buried there. "Don't deny it."

L's mouth compressed in a thin line. He wasn't even sure himself what might have happened then, if Raito had not shown up when he had - awful experience that_ that_ had ended up being. For once, Aiber sort of had a point, but it wasn't one he needed to hear aloud nor dwell upon. L knew he hadn't been thinking logically then... and he'd since been shown the folly of such action.

"I felt you giving in to me, L."

Aiber's hand brushed his face, just the backs of his fingers. The touch rolled L's stomach and his eyes twisted shut. He couldn't stand situations like these... And with Aiber's persistence, he was really going to have to damage him to put an end to it. It was different from when he was simply angry and was lashing out.

"I want that again," Aiber spoke in a covetous whisper, filled with stilted desire.

L retreated further into himself. Too many stimuli, too much confusion. Too many whirring thoughts for him not to start picking them apart, analyzing them in the face of things that he did not feel able to deal with. That hand caressed his face, and Aiber's voice was low in his ear, accompaniments to the blackness before his eyes. "For years now, I've wanted inside of you and you've kept me out. You've kept everyone out. Why make an exception for him?" Lips brushed skin. "How do you know what's right for you without trying out a few things?"

It was the same thought that had been drifting, undefined, in the back of L's head for a while now.

_'Why Raito?'_ Of all people, why him? Was it coincidence? An accident? Was it only with Raito that he would feel so strongly? Or was he so unversed in the nature of these things that he didn't know that such feelings of intensity were normal and that they might be had with anyone?

It was a disturbing thought.

_But..._

_But..._

"Give up on this, Aiber. You're making an enemy of me."

"You were considering it just now," the blond man accused him.

L scowled at him. "I always consider things before dismissing them outright. If you knew me at all, you'd know that. _Raito _would know that, and therein lies the difference between you two."

Aiber pushed away from him with a disgusted look on his face. "No, the difference is that you gave him the chance to know you."

* * *

TBC

**A/N:** Looking back on previous chapters, I see that FF has killed some of my formatting. Like... my little set of 3 dashes that separate p.o.v. shifts, and other things that were previously showing up just fine are now GONE. I can't make my own lines? I *have* to do page break lines?? How annoying! Why can't we authors have a little leeway? Why are so many things forbidden??? ((And why, oh why, does your site have an issue with italics? What makes it smash them into adjoining words, and why must I fix it *again*?!))

Yes, I'm sitting here, wasting an author's note on complaining. I hate doing things twice, especially when time is limited.

**A/N2: **ANYWAY.

The indecision on where to break the chapter, my beta having exams, and me finishing an exam and then starting a new job..... all conspired to make a late update. This is why you are thrilled, that once again I made a liar out of myself when I expected a quick update. Boo. On the plus side, since I was also sitting on the fence about finishing this fic in this chapter, with just a bit more that followed this, I ended up opting for tossing it into a **new chapter** and found a bit more to add before the end of the fic, including pr0nz.

((THANK YOU FOR YOUR COMMENTS AND SUGGESTIONS: sometimes they spark off ideas. XD Or at the least, it lets me know when people are crying for more XXX, so that I don't just end the fic where I was going to, leaving them hanging.))

Speaking of the end...I don't know. I'm not sure that it could be wrapped up by chapter 18, because, well, chapter 18 is mostly written (and beta'd WOO!). Usually I can see scenes and stuff in my head and I write towards those eventual moments, and when I get stuck is usually when I can't see future happenings.

Ah, but let me cease rambling and get this thing posted.

Maybe if I am on the ball I can finish out ch18 today. 0.o


	18. Foiled

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 18

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N:** Ah. This time, I've got nuthin.

Well... unless it is to say that I have been re-watching Slayers. It's such a good series but no one really remembers it anymore, since it's old. T_T Ahhhh... Xel x Zel ... my first love. The start of my foray into yaoi. ...It kind of makes me want to continue the fic I wrote ages ago, but the fandom isn't really alive. ((*Cries*))

*ETA 06-06-10* Why must FF keep messing with formatting stuff? Yeargh. It's kind of frustrating to actually have to go back and maintain chapters long after they've been written. Once posted, it should be left alooooooooone, FF! Why must you torment us lowly writers? Ok. I'll stop ranting.

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 18: (Foiled)

The feeling of instant anger was getting old, Raito thought as came upon the scene in the kitchen.

His eyes were drawn to Lawliet first, of course, and he did not miss the bruised look of his mouth, nor the skewed look of his sweater. Immediately after, Raito sought the source of such indiscretion and his eyes fell upon none other than Aiber.

That he was looking upon this impudent man in_his_ realm - that the foreigner had somehow slithered out from behind bars and had **dared** to approach the dark-haired detective...

Perhaps 'anger' wasn't descriptive enough. _'Outrage'_ seemed much more fitting.

Oh, and it did not help that at this moment, when un-control was slipping over him, that he could _precisely_ recall Lawliet's request of him, as clearly as if it were ringing in his ears: That he do nothing to harm Aiber, when he so _**dearly**_ wanted to.

He toyed with it, weighing the consequences of such action as the morals imposed on him by the object of his desire were turning to ash in his mouth. To be controlled in any way did not sit well with him. Not at all. And yet how else but by being controlled could he in turn control Lawliet? It was a hateful sort of give and take, and he did not feel at liberty to break the cycle. Loyalty was the only thing that kept people close... and for such loyalty to remain intact, Lawliet required trust. He mustn't do anything to breach that trust, or he might lose everything.

He groped inside of himself for a calm place before making himself known.  
_  
(Lawliet's__ bruised mouth...)_

He tried very hard to feel the calm that would allow him to be so very in control.  
_  
(Aiber had kissed him again, hadn't he?)_

His fists clenched and it was not the calm place that he found within himself, but satisfaction in the discomfort he'd dealt Aiber's worthless body the night before. Nothing that provided lasting damage, nothing that would be visible unless he were to remove his shirt, merely sore ribs and bruises gained amidst the hissing of pain. Such a small thing to endure for the crimes he'd attempted.

"You have some nerve showing up here," Raito said with a gilded smile.

Aiber turned to him and immediately his eyes narrowed with dislike. "Hallo, Yagami. It seems like only yesterday that we saw each other last."

"And it seems to me that this is the last place you should be."

Raito flipped open his cell phone and dialed building security. Aiber may have gotten out somehow, but that was easily rectified. "Security? It seems that we have an intruder."

Aiber's face tightened.

Perhaps he could revisit a more... fitting punishment upon the man this time. The thought fed the maliciousness in him like a pet.

"Yagami-san?" the security guard confirmed.

"Yes."

Sometimes the security staff irritated him with their preoccupation with protocol and their incessant observation of etiquette. What he wanted now was to see Aiber dragged out of here by his throat, to see him humbled and shamed and to make him more aware than ever that he could not weevil his way through the cracks without being discovered and thwarted. Had he really expected to steal Lawliet out from under him so easily? Raito had more than enough resources to snap the man in two.

"Uh, Sir..." the guard on the phone was saying, "I was told that if you were to call in like this, that you should contact the Chairman immediately."  
_  
The Chairman?_ Now it was Raito's eyes that narrowed as he realized that he was being denied, and that the guard seemed to know of Aiber's presence. Was The Chairman involved somehow? Was he the reason that the blond foreigner was roaming free? It would make sense in a fucked up sort of way.

Raito hung up on the guard, his mouth wanting to twist in disgust and agitation and dialed the old bastard's number. With each unanswered ring, he got more and more irritated. His eyes remained on Aiber, promising consequences were he to try and escape. On the sixth ring, the Chairman picked up.

"What is the meaning of this?" Raito said shortly, losing patience. He hated being thwarted. But even more, he hated it when Amane was a step ahead of him.

"Ah, good morning to you, too, Raito," the Chairman said in a jovial voice that made rage slither up Raito's spine. "Might I assume you have encountered Aiber?"

"You might," Raito ground out. "And might I ask if you are aware of his actions of late?"

"Well aware," the Chairman stated matter-of-factly. "And watch your tone, boy."

Raito bit the inside of his lip until he tasted blood.

"Now then," the older man continued in a self-satisfied tone, surely aware of the maelstrom that Raito was suppressing and enjoying it entirely too much. He reveled in pressing his thumb down upon the younger man whenever the opportunity presented itself. "What_ you_ might not be aware of is my daughter's growing fondness for this man. What is a father to do when his daughter so tearfully begs for her new lover's release?"

Raito blanched. Misa and Aiber? The thought did not sit well. Mainly, it complicated things. His own situation was more perilous if Misa's interests were tied up in everything. "What about Ito?"

The Chairman chuckled. "You are to keep this in confidence, of course. I trust you can do that."

"Of course I _can_," Raito protested. "But-"

"You aren't alone, are you, boy?"

Raito viciously bit his lip again. He _despised_ being called 'boy'. Chairman Amane knew that of course. The sleazy bastard. "No."

"Then let me talk." There was a creaking of leather, as if he had settled more comfortably in the large burgundy office chair that resided in his home office. "I posted bail and had him released, but not without _conditions_, dear boy. He rightly earned his place in our fair justice system, and he will rightly earn every moment of freedom I gift him with - if he cooperates. He is sworn to secrecy on the matter of any information he procured from your residence. He understands that it is not merely your reputation he would drag down, but _mine_ as well, and..." he laughed heartily, an ugly sound, "he is fully aware that he does _not_ want to do that."

There was a long pause, and Raito could hear the sounds of something being drunk. _Probably port,_ he thought acidly.

If it hadn't been for the Chairman backing him with his name these past years, Raito could be sure that he would have just been hung out to dry and that the Chairman would be jovially watching him crash and burn for entertainment. The only interest the man had in protecting him was in protecting his own name from scandal, and most of the incidents were his affairs in the first place. Maybe on a benevolent day, he would consider his daughter's feelings and give Raito a hand if only to keep her happy. But he rarely had good days, and that just went to show that he had an ulterior motive in this as well.

"Ahhh..." the Chairman sighed cheerily. "Nothing like whetting the old whistle to make a day seem all right. Hmm, now where were we?"

He paused for dramatic effect only, Raito knew. He ground his teeth in irritation and waited for the monologue to continue.

"Right then... I'm sure you are just _dying_ to know what I could possibly think to do with an ex-con in my grasp... one that my little pumpkin is so charmed by... a smooth talker that could rival even your silver tongue, my boy."

For a moment, Raito actually had to strain to suppress a laugh that threatened to burble up from the back of his throat. Aiber... Aiber was being scouted as his replacement? It was too ironic, and too beautifully hilarious. Oh, how Aiber would suffer.

"Chairman," Raito said respectfully, able to let prior irritation slide for _this_, "that just may be your best idea yet."

He knew first-hand how stifling and demanding a role it was. And nearly the only way to escape it was to be set free or to surpass the hand that both lifted you up in the world and bound you tighter than anything else. Raito had been aiming to surpass The Chairman. It was a long road, and daunting when it involved the additional grooming into the role of son-in-law, which would be the ultimate shackle if allowed to go unchecked. Raito had barely escaped it all this time, straddling the line only through exceptional cleverness and evasion tactics.

"I knew you'd like that, you little charlatan," the older man backhanded him playfully. "I can see promise in him if he's groomed properly and, unlike you, he'll have more motivation to do exactly as I say."

"When have I ever done otherwise?"

"Well, you certainly caused me enough problems when you broke things off with Misa, I tell you. I'll never forgive you for handing me such a pain in the ass to deal with. And what was I to do without a suitable replacement? The cameras love you, and she was too infatuated to be very useful on other fronts. I'll give you credit though for setting her at Ito's boy without her realizing it. That was a stroke of genius."

"I do try, sir."

"Yes, you are motivated, and doing your best despite me. I'd be proud if it didn't irritate me so." He chuckled again good-naturedly, but Raito knew what his brand of malice sounded like. "Are you sure you can't stomach her, son? You're still my first pick."

"Unfortunately, I've already seen that course to its logical conclusion."

"Feh. It was worth a try." There was a loud harumph from the other end. "Anyway, I think he'll play to the cameras just fine. He'll be a regular celebrity. So, I want you kids to get along."

"Excuse me?"

"I had the lad tell me everything. Down to the barest detail." He paused, pointedly. "You get caught with your pants down, and you are on your own. You are also forbidden to take action against my dear blond little laddie if he should do something to displease you, but above all else, word of his interest in that other detective will_ not_ reach Misa's ears."

_Christ. Aiber told him about __Lawliet? How fucking stupid could he be? Of course, such a bold move had also gained him immunity. The foreign bastard. _

So, to sum it all up, the Chairman knew about himself and Lawliet, and he was expected to keep that under wraps. Aiber was given free rein to do whatever he wanted in trying to pursue the detective because the Chairman enjoyed being a bastard and making his life intolerable, and both he and Aiber were to keep Aiber's interest in Lawliet a secret under pain of death.

He could feel the tiny seeds of a powerful headache settling just behind his eyes. "So I assume his debut will be after the merger?"

"Sharp as a whipcrack, m'boy. Ito won't be worth shit on a shingle after that and the whole deal is an irrevocable process - the best kind."

"Ah." Raito took that moment to put his attention back to the room's other two occupants, the fight having left him. Dealing with the Chairman was beyond tiring. He could almost - almost - feel sympathy for what Aiber had gotten himself into.

Lawliet was staring at him as if trying, beyond reasonability, to divine the whole measure of his conversation, and he'd certainly have been watching his expression just as intently, which was why Raito had had his back turned at specific points. It was kind of endearing though, that look, even if such perception as the detective had could be wildly inconvenient at times.

Aiber, the menace, was looking suspicious. It seemed he'd felt a chill breeze, like one from the depths of a crypt, washing over him. He was starting to wonder about his fate, and the razor thread of worry was beginning to plague him.

Raito smiled at him and the look intensified delightfully._ Good. __**Suffer.**_

"I must be off," the Chairman said lightly. "So many holes, so little time."

Raito was hoping he meant golf, as the Chairman was overly fond of the game, but who could really know with someone like him?

The line had gone dead in his hand, so he snapped his phone shut and tucked it into his pocket. "I'm informed that we are now colleagues," Raito said archly, extending his hand to Aiber.

Aiber viewed his hand like a venomous serpent and for some inconceivable reason, looked to Lawliet in appeal. The slender, dark-haired detective shrugged, just as perplexed as he was. The blond man set his jaw, hatred sparking in his eyes, but he took Raito's hand and did not attempt to crush it.

Raito leaned in and spoke in a low voice. "If you want to survive the ordeal set before you, do not piss me off." As he pulled back slightly, he met glacial eyes and added, "A friendly word of advice. Keep Misa happy and it will all be a lot more tolerable for you. Under no circumstances should you make her jealous. You will live to regret it."

"How is that friendly advice?" Aiber asked, their hands still linked in a mockery of good will.

"You're more than welcome to discover that on your own." Raito smiled again, and malice was burbling up within it. His spot of empathy was being chased by the larger beast of his hatred. No one deserved the Chairman, or Misa for that matter, but there was certainly no one who deserved it more than Aiber.

Aiber dropped his hand as if it had burned and tainted him with its essence.

Raito did not look at Lawliet. He couldn't be clouded by any reaction he saw there now. The point had to be made and it had to be made _now_, at the inception.

"Aib- Oh! Raito!" Misa's startled voice came from around the corner, like fine sandpaper against his nerves. She swept into the room, and he steeled himself to her presence reflexively. It allowed him greater range of voice and expression if he did that. "And..." she squinted at Lawliet. "L, right?"

The detective nodded his head in assent and she clapped her hands together in a peppy display of pleasure at having a few brain cells to rub together. "Daddy said we'll all be working together now."

"So I've heard," Raito said loftily, giving her the strongest stare of disapproval he felt he could get away with.

She had the good grace to look embarrassed. It had been her fault that Aiber had been given the information he needed to infiltrate Raito's home, and her fault once more that the man was no longer going to be spending his days in a concrete box with barred windows.

Surely she realized that such a betrayal had killed his incentive to be even moderately accommodating of her anymore?

She wilted a little and secured Aiber's arm as if it could provide her sustenance. Then she fixed Raito with a haughty look.

Aiber did not protest his enslaved arm as Misa tried to make Raito jealous, but instead kept slanting piteous looks at Lawliet.

Raito could see the suppressed desire in his colorless eyes and felt vindicated as the foreigner was forced to cage them in Misa's presence. He even looked torn, as if he wanted to say something to the slighter detective but was too limited by present company to even attempt it.

Hahaha.

"Welcome aboard, Aiber," Raito said heartily. "Let me know if there is anything I can do to help you as you adjust to everything. I'm more than happy to watch over you."

Pale eyes met his and they understood what he was really saying. _I'll be watching you, and I will not let you function as you please._

Just let Aiber try to catch Lawliet alone again.

With the Amanes as watchdogs, his every waking moment was practically spoken for. And in the off times, either of them was only a phone call away.

Aiber slanted another desperate look at Lawliet as Misa cuddled his arm in an attempt to make Raito jealous. He was starting to feel trapped - the silken cobwebs that were hardly visible were starting to tighten around him, restricting his movements even at this early stage and it looked like the taste of it was already bitter on Aiber's tongue. Raito knew that feeling all too well. And he hoped Aiber fucking choked on it. He did not appreciate the shuttered look of wanting that was apparent in the foreigner's expression, nor that it was visceral enough that Lawliet took an unconscious step backwards.

He could just see Aiber slipping his guards...

He could just see Aiber cornering Lawliet, taking him at a disadvantage...

Did the blond detective know where the insomniac lived? Was it feasible that he could get in while everyone slept? Raito had seen the layout of the house. The upstairs was largely unused except by Lawliet. A scuffle would not be heard. If Aiber slipped in, he could overpower the unsuspecting insomniac and take him by force. Bound hands and gag, and it would be all too easy, and any noise would pass unnoticed.

Raito realized he was thinking too hard about this. Not only that, his mind was drifting, replacing Aiber in that scenario with himself. It was his own hands binding Lawliet's thin wrists together, securing them to the headboard. And he couldn't even recall at this moment whether there had been a headboard on the bed, only it didn't matter, because he was forcing cloth into the insomniac's mouth and thrilling to the feeling of power at having Lawliet at his mercy, staring at him with those sharp obsidian eyes.

And it didn't take much to conjure the look of tormented pleasure that Lawliet would wear... the twisting of his head as he denied the sensations that rode his body, making it shudder helplessly.

It was at times like these that Raito was grateful for the masks he wore. Even when losing himself to distraction, he could be reasonably sure that he was not making an inappropriate expression.

He shook his head slightly, aware that he was garnering looks now from all three parties.

Lawliet was radiating that delicious uncertainty tinged with desire, having sensed something from him with his acute perception.

Aiber had also sensed something and his demeanor had sharpened to quite a wicked edge.

Misa was duped, however. Whatever she had sensed in Raito, she had assumed it applied to herself, and she bore a quietly preening air. She looked pleased with herself and her hold on Aiber was looser, as if trying to convey to Raito that she was still available. She seemed under the impression that he was jealous.

And he was. But not over her.

He wanted to eat Lawliet alive. To consume every protesting yet acquiescent part of him, to savor each piece upon his tongue and utterly indulge in gluttony.

Part of him also wanted Aiber to watch. To helplessly stand by, knowing his chance would never come. Raito wanted to feel him seething, beyond jealous and unable to act - to have him see Lawliet at his most alluring, his most intoxicating, and being unable to touch, taste, or feel.  
_  
How maladjusted of me.  
_  
"Are you free over lunch, Raito?" Misa asked.

Raito scanned over possible reasons for her asking, and none of them invoked his desire to spend time with her. In truth, nothing at the moment was dragging his mind from the delightfully debased fantasy that remained playing out in the background of his thoughts, but it wasn't as if he could indulge such fancies for hours yet... Life was cruel.

"Why do you ask?" Raito said, instead of giving an answer. There were some things that he did not feel like dealing with in the office, and an extended lunch did offer reprieve of a sort. But it was best to determine first if obliging Misa would end up being more trouble than it was worth.

He couldn't say that he wanted to have to look at Aiber's face while trying to maintain an interest in eating. He was nearing his limit at being able to stand his presence.

Misa toyed with Aiber's arm. "Well, Aiber is scheduled for meetings, and I don't really feel like dining alone."

"Is Takahiro unavailable?"

"Ito?" she queried, as if only vaguely aware of her boyfriend's given name.

"Unless you have expanded your circle, yes."

"He's a bore."

"Ito?" Aiber asked.

"Her boyfriend," Raito supplied helpfully.

"Raito!" Misa said indignantly.

"He ought to have known about him," Raito said unapologetically. "It's no secret." He turned to Aiber. "Though it seems as if The Chairman may have supplied you with selective information, my friend." He really was getting sick of Aiber's face.

"You said you were done with Ito," Aiber said in consternation. No doubt he was feeling the precarious nature of his position. He was really up the creek if Misa's fickle nature shifted from him and onto someone else. And though Raito would love that, as it would send Aiber right back into hell, the blond detective would be much more tormented as a free man trying to keep pace with this new life the Chairman was lining up for him.

Raito saw an opportunity to make things difficult for him. "I'd_ love_ to do lunch," he said to Misa with a million dollar smile. Hell, he'd fended her off for a while now, it wasn't like he couldn't continue to do so while putting Aiber in the hot seat.

She beamed at him, a little flustered and still obviously infatuated. That would likely change.

"Now hold on-" Aiber stepped in.

"Aw, don't be jealous, Aiby." Misa pouted and gave him wide eyes, batting her lashes a bit. She seemed thrilled at the extra attention, and at the promise of alone time with Raito. She hugged his arm cutely and tapped the tip of his nose with her finger. "You'll be in a meeting with the committee and _him_," she said, pointing to Lawliet. "Since the two of you will have to work out your Sherlock Holmes stuff."

* * *

L felt as if his jaw had just hit the floor, though that was just a fancy metaphor people liked to use instead of saying they felt utterly poleaxed. He guessed it made one feel more dignified.

"Excuse me, Amane-san?"

"Yes?" The blonde who looked like a model gifted him with her attention. She really did act like a prima donna, he thought.

"I was not informed of this, and I do have other business to attend to..."

Raito, L noticed, was bearing the traces of a scowl. "I was not informed of this either," he said tightly.

Misa shrugged, unconcerned. "Now you know."

Aiber looked considerably more cheerful.

In turn, L felt equally unenthusiastic about the prospect. Time spent with Aiber was a thing to be avoided. Though Misa had said something about a committee. Still... how long was the meeting and how long would Raito be tied up with Misa?

"Raito, can I speak with you a moment?" L asked formally. Misa... and that smile of Raito's... There were certainly some things to be sorted out here.

"Certainly," Raito said. "If you'll excuse us," he said to the other two, though he was not asking permission, tossing it over his shoulder like an afterthought.

"Raito," L said once they were not in danger of being overheard, "I'm not ok with this. I have real work to do, and I refuse to work with Aiber after his recent behaviour."

The brunet leaned against the wall, his back to the kitchen. His expression would be hidden from the fair-haired couple should they poke their heads around the corner. Irritation slid over it. "I knew nothing of this. Any of it," he said in a harsh whisper. "Aiber was liberated by _her_ father."

"Why are you flirting with Misa? I'm not ok with that either."

Raito looked surprised for a moment. "Oh, that," he said distractedly. "I'm not, really, but did you see the look on Aiber's face?"

L reached out and took Raito's sleeve in hand, shaking it. "I don't care if you feel the need to antagonize him for whatever reason. Realize what effect your actions have on me as well."

"For whatever reason?" Anger slid into Raito's hushed voice. "Any time I leave you alone, it seems he manages to stick his tongue down your throat! And even if the Chairman hadn't granted him immunity, you yourself asked me for that not long ago and the very thought of it grates on my nerves."

"At least I am not soliciting his interest like you are with Misa," L flung back. "It's obvious she's not finished with you and would be quite happy ripping your clothes off."

"I'm not in any danger, not like _you_ are. Aiber's completely fixated on you and I can see that there isn't much that will put him off. Not to mention he's built like a truck."

"He may be larger than me, but I can take care of mysel-"

"Move in with me."

L stopped mid-thought, "-f what?" _Live together?_ The very idea was ludicrous - they'd only just met. Not to mention, he'd hardly had a moment apart from Raito since then. He needed to maintain his own residence and have the distance needed to keep a rational perspective on things. _He has__** got**__ to be kidding._

"Move in with me, Lawliet," Raito repeated in all seriousness.

"Raito, I have _work_ to do." L felt antsy. Too much was going on. Too much had happened these last several weeks and he was still reeling. "I don't have time to go to these meetings for my fake job, and I cannot compromise my real job any further for you. It's distraction after distraction. I need to get my life back, not derail it further."

L had long since dropped his hold on Raito's sleeve and was unconsciously inching away. He had the feeling he was at the edge of a precipice. He needed to step back, not get more deeply entrenched in the insanity that Raito's proximity inspired.

Live together? It was mad. And worse still, L could picture it all too clearly. Sleeping together, eating together, coexisting in the same space... everything they had been doing already. Only there would be no break from the distractions Raito offered. How would he work? How would he concentrate? How would he keep his eyes from roving the rooms? For Raito's abode was much different than the barren state of his own.

Raito grabbed his hand then, his face set, and pulled L after him down the hall.

L yanked at his arm unsuccessfully. "What are you doing?" he asked incredulously as he was hurried along, looking back over his shoulder at the kitchen where Aiber and Misa were waiting for them.

Raito said nothing, merely stalked down the hall with L's hand in an iron grip. "Raito-"

Raito viciously jabbed at the button for the elevator, and when it came up, opening with a ding, Raito slung him inside.

"Why not?" the brunet said acidly. "Why the hell not?"

The door slid closed again as they faced off and the elevator started down with another soft ding.

Astonishingly enough, Raito waved a keyfob over the control panel, hit a few buttons, and the elevator was shuddering to a stop between floors.

"What are you doing?" L said again, more urgently this time, grabbing at the tiny device on Raito's keychain. Why was Raito always doing things that set him on edge? Such recklessness! Did he want to get them stuck in the elevator?

Raito held it out of reach. "It will take them hours to sort this out." Raito loosened his tie and maintained a locked gaze upon L that was palpably heavy. "Of course, I can let us out at any time. Your call."

L backed up a step. That weird light was in Raito's eyes. The tie loosened further, purposefully. It seemed rather redundant to ask again just what he thought he was doing, so instead L said, "Let us out."

"No." The tie slid apart, hanging to either side of Raito's neck like a thing with latent potential. L didn't know quite why he was staring at it, except that Raito's graceful hands upon it had been lingering strangely.

Next, L wanted to voice the redundant question, 'What do you want from me?' He didn't. He was too preoccupied with Raito and the tie that was sliding out from around his neck like a lazy serpent, deep red and burgundy.

"Hold out your hands," Raito commanded softly, his strange eyes harboring some quality that left no room for argument.

L frowned as he unconsciously brought his hands forward, and Raito claimed them with his. Something felt off. Anxiousness fluttered in his stomach as the tie slid and wound around his wrists, red as blood, and yet he was immobile, incessantly staring at the brunet's face as he worked and his silken hair fell across his eyes. What was this?

_What was this_? he wondered again as Raito finished and eerie eyes once more met his own. They filled his vision as his bound hands were brought over his head and pressed to the wall of the elevator with one tan, lean hand. L's breath stilled as long lashes lowered over those eyes and Raito's lips haunted his, making his pulse hammer in his ears.

"Why won't you give me what I want?" Raito murmured against him, a sharpness in the deceptive lull of his voice.

Small, soft brushes of Raito's mouth against his... the torture of a gently captive lip, held and explored between a more sensual pair...

...and the gradually increasing weight of a leanly muscled, perfect body against his. Abdomen to abdomen, chest to chest, and mouth to mouth.

"Give me what I want, Lawliet," Raito said huskily, covering L's eyes with his other hand. Everything went dark, and L was suddenly more aware of the fluttering in his stomach, the quality of their breaths, and the press of hips as Raito softly penetrated his mouth.

He held back a moan as he suffered such ministrations, his face heating as his lower body clenched sharply.

What had gotten into the brunet? What had possessed him to shirk work by trapping them in an elevator for an unprescribed amount of time? What was this insistence of his...?

It wasn't uncommon for Raito to use such things as a means of persuasion when he was trying to get what he wanted, but... what was he so fixated on?

"God, I want to violate you," Raito said against his mouth as his hand skated up L's stomach. "Over and over until you beg me to stop."

L could feel a hardness at his hip, a promise enclosed in flesh and blood, and his body ached for it.

"Only I won't oblige you," Raito continued, his voice gone rougher with arousal, a secretive, carnal whisper that spoke to his body in the heartbeat language of Morse code. A hastening communication that came on as strongly as the hand that was playing at his hip and lower. "I'll take you so many times that your voice will grow hoarse and fail you. And when you have no words left with which to refuse me... then, and only then, will I be satisfied."

L struggled weakly against his restraints as Raito touched him, pulling helpless noises from him easily like a harpist plucking strings.

"He wants inside you as badly as I do," Raito said in his ear. "I won't allow it. I can't stand the thought of it. I swear to you, Lawliet, I don't know what I would do if that happened. I wouldn't be able to control myself."

L's eyes scrunched shut as Raito's hand grew more bold, a cry building in the back of his throat. His possessive words, damnable hands, and silken voice... they were such fearsome weapons. L's legs were beginning to shake, and his arms spasmed ineffectually. He couldn't... think. He...

Raito released his arms, and guided them around his neck where they hung limply, held in place only because of the knotted tie that bound his wrists.

Then Raito was unbuttoning his collared shirt, exposing the beautiful lines of his chest and stomach. He pushed L's sweater up to his chest, baring his flushed, pale skin, and then L was melting in the heated, heady sensation of a desperate, thorough kiss and the feel of their naked skin. His hands twitched with the desire to pull the rest of their clothing away... to feel the bare heat of Raito's need against his own, unmasked by so many useless barriers.

"I want to stay over your place when you are not at mine," Raito murmured as he unfastened both of their pants in turn. "I want to always have you where I can see you." L's pants were kicked off to the side, along with his shoes.

"Rait...o..." L gasped out in what had been an attempt to speak normally. It was a hopeless endeavor. He was entirely too distracted... Underwear was still in the way, but it was thin, and now the movement of hip against hip felt so... so... His eyes rolled in his head as each motion flooded him with need. Passion. Desire.

"Aiber might get to you if I'm not vigilant," Raito said in a breathy, stilted voice.

And what a voice... every syllable echoed sex. He could have been reading the dictionary in that voice and it wouldn't matter just as long as he kept talking.

"Nnn," L moaned despite himself as Raito lifted him up to straddle his hips, and pressed him hard against the elevator wall, spreading his legs wider and intensifying everything exponentially.

L sought Raito's mouth, pulling it to him with the circle of his arms and dying a little as Raito ravished it with so little restraint. He couldn't feel any more strongly than this, he was sure. Wrapped in the brunet's punishing embrace, he was dying, and so sweetly. He would be a phoenix, burned to ashes and reborn every time.

Raito cried out, stifling the noise between them; release shuddered through him, tightening his entire body like a vice and L was not long after.

* * *

In hindsight, it was perhaps not the best of plans but Raito did not regret it.

Lawliet was adorably lethargic and unintelligible afterward, whereas Raito felt energized. It was probably nervous energy. He'd never intended to jump the detective in the elevator... he'd merely wanted some answers. He hadn't liked how quickly Lawliet had refused his suggestion of living together, though the dark-haired man couldn't have known the scenario that had been lurking in Raito's head: Aiber breaking in and having his way with him in his sleep, tied up and helpless...

So now they were in an elevator at Raito's work, disheveled and smelling of sex, and Raito was on the brink of being in a heap of trouble.

It was still worth it.

In fact, he wouldn't mind doing it all over again.

But people weren't going to put up with a broken elevator for long... he needed to get out of the building before too many people saw them. He could work from home, if need be. Coming back freshly showered would be suspect.

The fourth floor was the least trafficked, so that would be the logical choice, he thought as he solemnly buttoned his shirt. Though, the problem with that was how often Mikami liked to haunt that part of the building. Why the fourth floor? It was Mikami. He hadn't bothered to ask. Though there was a staff lounge... a rather infrequently used one at that.

Oh, but it didn't matter what the bespectacled man was up to, as long as he was up to it in a place that was out of Raito's way. The odds were good that the fourth floor would be nearly deserted at this time. The odds were also good that, just because it would be really annoying, he would just happen to run into the man.

"Raito, I don't think I'm cut out for working here," Lawliet said in a rueful, wrung-out voice.

The detective was leaning against the elevator's railing, working the last, constricting red loops of Raito's tie off of his wrists with sleepy precision. He looked utterly relaxed and scandalously at home with his bound wrists, disheveled hair, and lopsided sweater. His pants, he'd already pulled back on, but hadn't bothered to fasten yet. It left a strip of pale skin visible where the sweater rode up, and the bones of his hips lay bare to Raito's eyes. It struck him to be very like an American jean advertisement. All Lawliet needed was to have water dripping artfully through his hair or a cigarette in his hands, or...

The faux model-in-question raised smoky eyes to meet Raito's. They were nearly solid black with the pupils still blown and the look in them was a calm, at-peace sort of thing edged with the sardonic, wry humor that was purely Lawliet.

Raito drifted in, pressing a kiss to his lips, utterly captivated by the image he presented. "You can do anything you put your mind to."

"Mmn." Lawliet didn't seem inclined to argue, though it was obvious that he disagreed, or perhaps he just didn't want to expend the energy.

Lawliet's expression turned a bit bland and he raised a brow. "So, how long do you gather people will be ok with a non-functioning elevator?"

Raito thought for a moment. "Oh, I'd say about-" The elevator lurched suddenly, making them both grab at the wall for balance. The sudden drop made his nerves stand on end. "-now might be the limit of their patience."

"Did you have some sort of plan at this point...?" Lawliet looked like the tension of imminent discovery had gotten to him, too.

"Well, not really," Raito admitted with a cavalier tilt of his head. Somehow seeing Lawliet getting flustered was making him feel calmer.

The elevator did another stuttered lurch and Lawliet's eyes widened a fraction more, his mouth compressing into a line. He looked like he was forcing his expression into a bland poker face, but it was hardly perfect. It was awful of him, Raito thought, but he was taken with the urge to tease the detective and shatter that paltry effort, endearing though it was.

He flashed a glittering smile at the dark-haired man. "Come now, are you that ashamed to be seen in such a compromising fashion? You wound me, Lawliet." The detective was doggedly trying to fasten and straighten his attire while avidly avoiding eye contact. The speed with which he'd looked away and the angry flush of color on his cheeks spoke of discomfort. "Surely by now you have gotten used to the idea?" Raito pursued that blush and turned Lawliet's willfully averted face back towards him. He gazed brazenly into dark eyes and lowered his voice, using a silky tone that always garnered an amusing reaction from his companion, "What would be _so_ terrible about a little office gossip?"

Raito could feel the tell-tale tuggings of a smirk lingering upon his lips, which was ruining the sincerity of his act while also earning a darkening look from the furiously blushing detective. Delightful.

The real shame was that, despite his teasing, Raito really couldn't risk the exposure of their relationship. But he didn't need to let Lawliet know that.

In fact, the less Lawliet knew about the Chairman's rules, the better; he might start throwing his weight around if he thought that Raito had to bow and scrape to anyone. The dark-haired man was much more cooperative when he thought that Raito retained absolute control over everything in his environment.

"What is it worth to you to exit this elevator without an audience?" Raito asked enigmatically.

Lawliet's startled grimace of capitulation was too entertaining for words.  
_  
This ought to be good._

* * *

TBC

**A/N:** Elevator sex... T_T Errrrrr... what is wrong with my demented brain?


	19. Lines in the Sand

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 19

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N:**iPhone4. Oh my god. This has been the neatest toy/insanely useful thing I have had in **forever**.

Wifi networks are everywhere, so I can pop online and look stuff up randomly when I need it without getting charged (for 3G usage). I can take a picture and email it to people **right then** instead of the old process of taking the pic with my digital camera, loading onto the computer and then going into email and sending it. Really. Just tap the pic, choose to send, tap the contact and VOILA! (The 5MP pics are gorgeous and crisp - just as good as my digicam.)

And podcasts work quite nicely from it, with the added bonus of being able to view the little indicator that tells you if you have listened to the cast or not (which I can't see on the ipod). Hello _CoffeeBreak French_! So we meet again! Great podcast for language learning. I recommend it highly to anyone interested in learning French. The hosts are Scottish, which for me just adds more entertainment/culture. (Also, there is a great French language game for the _DS Lite_. The Japanese game is awesome too - I have played that more as I am better with Japanese and have been studying it longer.)

Wow. I just realized - a whole author's note about stuff completely unrelated to this fic! :S

(For the record, NO, I have _not_ had dropped calls with the iphone4. Why is that the first thing that everyone feels compelled to ask when they see an iPhone4 in the wild? Strangers will even stop me on the street to ask that (or to ask the differences between the 4 and the 3GS. Wha? I'm not a sales rep, go look it up!). It's insane! People, just don't cover up the little black strips along the bottom of the side panels if you are having issues. Oh, and grab your free case from Apple by downloading their "free case" App. Load it, pick your case, verify your address, done. Free. Nice.)

Moving on! XD

BTW, happy holiday weekend! I hope you all have a little extra free time to enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 19: (Lines in the Sand)

L glowered sullenly. How the workings of the universe had conspired against him to such an extent? How had the stars aligned in such ill-fated formations as to bring about this...this...

"Smile, Lawliet," Raito chided him drolly. "You aren't being very pleasant for someone who has just gotten his way."

"You told me I_ shouldn't _smile," L muttered uncooperatively. _MY way? Ha._

"I'll allow it this once," Raito said graciously, goading him with a serene smile.

"I hate your personal assistant." What L really wanted to say fell into the realm of name calling, but he tried not to stoop to immaturity... though the brunet seemed adept at pulling such childish outbursts from him. He also did not like the very pretty blonde woman that happened to be Raito's PA. He was indeed grateful that with her assistance, they made a graceful exit from the elevator with few to none witnessing their departure... but...

"Don't change the subject, Lawliet. Besides, Hal did nothing to incur your ire."

"You could have warned me about her," L said resentfully. "You might have _mentioned_ that we'd met before." Indeed, he had nearly forgotten about the matter, until seeing the blonde's face had brought it crashing back... Hal, as she was introduced, was in fact the same woman who had used the alias Vic, the model. The same woman who, at the bar, had written her name with a heart on a little scrap of paper along with a phone number that had turned out to be not hers, but Raito's. "I can't believe you had _your PA_ chat me up in the bar that night!"

Raito shrugged, unconcerned. "Hardly as successful as it should have been."

"Raito..." L growled.

Raito waved him off. "You have no idea how many times I've regretted it."

L knew better now than to mistake this for an apology. Likely, Raito was about to say something irritating...

"She took quite the liking to you and I never hear the end of it," the brunet said in a melodramatic voice. "If she isn't pestering me about getting your phone number, she's trying to maul me when she hears that we've had sex-"

L was appalled. "And _why_ would you be telling her about that?"

Raito slipped him an appraising look. "Well, I hardly had to tell her _this_ time, it was written all over your face."

L's eye twitched and it took considerable willpower to keep himself in check._Raito has no shame. He has__** no shame**__. Why must I keep reminding myself of this? How could I ever forget?_

"Really, Lawliet, you must learn some restraint. If you'd have schooled your expression, she might not have flung herself on you."

_Twitch._ "And you might have told her that groping is an unacceptable form of greeting." Hal had seemed more than capable of jumping him with as much gusto as Raito usually did... The woman's sly gaze had been eerily familiar as she'd looked him over. The most disturbing part was during the centuries-long embrace, which had taken him by utter surprise, especially after the initial shock of recognition, she'd actually had the nerve to _smell_ him!

L resented that Raito had enlisted her help, that Raito had felt no qualms about mentioning just what had happened in the elevator as he'd spoken to her on the phone, but most of all...

"So," Raito said casually, as they finally exited the building and entered the bowels of the parking garage. "What am I going to do with you for an entire day when you have agreed to do _anything_ I say?"

"You could always come back to work after you change and actually _earn_ your salary," L suggested churlishly.

"I think calling out sick would be the right thing to do. Why work at home and ruin such a choice opportunity as this?"

L muttered something under his breath.

Raito smiled at him and the expression was full of intent. "I think it's brave of you to act out of hand when you are in such a situation, Lawliet. It is really just so..._inspiring_. You wouldn't believe how much."

L curbed his behavior with a determinedly bitten lip. He did not need to see Raito inspired. The brunet was inspired enough as it was, and he wasn't particularly looking forward to the next many hours of his life. He'd already been informed that he would be having the honor of a guest staying over tonight (Raito), and that it would be up to Raito's benevolence whether or not he lived to regret it.

It wasn't so much that having Raito sleep in his bed was a problem... though L did feel protective over his room, which was also where he worked, and over his privacy...

Actually, he did feel anxious over that, though he had now slept over at Raito's plenty of times... but what really bothered him was Watari, and how he was supposed to explain Raito's presence. Or maybe it was also that Raito loved to torment him and it was likely that the brunet would try to make advances on him, and shame him through forcing sex on him in such an unsuitable place. _That_ would certainly be like him. Raito seemed to take an almost perverse joy in making him cry out as loudly as possible, and L doubted his companion would curb such behaviors for _his_ sake.

L could feel his face heating with embarrassment at the very likely scenario, and with anger at his inability to really do anything about it or the volatile brunet that subjected him to such things. _Why do I keep finding myself in these sorts of situations?_ Most of all, he really did not feel ready for Watari to know the nature of their relationship. Maybe he never would be, but he was sure the ticking time bomb named Raito had other ideas and had no such qualms about it.

_Was Raito put on this earth merely to torment him?_

_

* * *

_

Raito had great plans for the rest of the day. He wondered if they'd live up to the expectations Lawliet's expressions spoke of. He smiled.

He felt quite at ease now that they were leaving his work building behind. Now he had hours to kill with his favorite new pastime, who was wearing an expression quite like a cat that'd been on the wrong end of a bucket of water. And there was nothing to intrude upon that time. No excuses that could be uttered to make them part ways, unless _he_ said. Lawliet looked convinced that he would at any time do something horrible. Not that he was planning on it, but such expectations were a nice ace to have up his sleeve. It might be fun to see just how far he could go in playing with the detective, how much he could get away with, simply because something worse was feared. Raito was rather fond of that petulant, conceding expression that the dark-haired man sometimes wore.

He did try to think of things other than how he would really like to make Lawliet make that face while they were in bed, as well as just what sort of things the detective would be so against that he could eventually be swayed into doing anyway. _Hmmn..._ Lawliet's earlier resounding 'no' to the suggestion of being bound in leather came to mind. It had been a passing fancy even to say it - more facetious than serious - but Raito took note of how quickly the detective had shot it down, and it made him want to explore it further. At length and in detail.

But mostly, he was planning on behaving himself. He wanted to break the ice on the matter of staying over at Lawliet's when Lawliet was not staying with him, and that too had been shot down without hesitation. That did make him feel rather irritated, if he chose to dwell on it. He should punish his companion for that, at least.

Raito frowned lightly to himself. Was the detective really ashamed to be in a relationship with him?

He seemed set on never letting the truth of it see the light of day.  
_  
But if anyone had reason to not wish such a thing to be known, it would be me. Why does Lawliet care? His career would not be affected._ Or did he really feel that strongly regarding the older man he lived with? Was he afraid of losing acceptance?

"Why are you sighing?" Lawliet asked him as he fastened his seatbelt with a click.

Raito looked at him with cold appraisal. He didn't do it intentionally, but he could not have his true thoughts showing on his face. He was feeling the prickling of jealously that made him want to be mean. How could Lawliet be more concerned for what that man Watari thought than what _he_ thought? Was this the reality of his importance to the detective? Was he _not_ in fact in the highest ranking place, but in one of auxiliary import? He backed the car out of the parking space. And here he was, worrying over Lawliet and whether or not he was safe to be left alone when Aiber was not as hobbled and behind bars as he should be. "Was I?"

Lawliet gave him that animal-like assessing look that was one part prey and one part obstinance. "If my question is seen as an intrusion, you're welcome to ignore it."

Raito rolled that around in his head for a moment, eyes on the road, seeing and yet not seeing. Lawliet could be quite keen. It was certainly one of his more compelling talents, but it was also a trait of such astuteness that it made Raito's evasiveness more transparent than he liked. As usual, he felt both touched and irritated that Lawliet could see through him. Thus, he was torn between rewarding the other man with an honest answer and shrugging him off in favor of keeping his thoughts private.

His other option was to tease the detective in some way in order to take the heat off, but he knew that Lawliet resented it when he did that.

In the end, Raito frowned and shrugged. He suddenly didn't feel lighthearted enough to torment his passenger, nor bolstered enough to want to bear his displeasure. He didn't want to reveal himself either.

"Suit yourself," Lawliet said, propping his elbow on the car door and resting his hand on his chin. He turned to look out the window indifferently.

That indifference pecked at Raito, more insistent and incessant than the drone of a buzzing insect.

_It's put on,_ he told himself. _Pay it no mind. Lawliet might not be as adept as I am, but he can still mask himself quite skillfully._ But still, the thought that the other man might have inquired only due to some feeling of obligation - as opposed to curiosity - really grated his nerves.

And at times like these, the urge to do something to cause a break in that emotionless face was like a roar in Raito's ears. He knew it wasn't the proper sort of reaction for a person to have... and he knew that the blank face in front of him was probably more natural on Lawliet's face than any of the others that he had seen... but still the feeling welled up like an uncontrolled thing, and it twitched through his limbs - the desire to lash out. He had power when Lawliet showed him those bare, tormented expressions and focused solely on him. The opposite was true when the dark-haired man's indifferent face was turned aside, as if Raito was not even worth looking at, and Raito's thoughts boiled in the shadow of his neglect.

* * *

Aiber tapped the side of a pen rhythmically against his fingers. He'd tap it upon the glossy executive table, but even in his boredom, he was not keen on attracting more attention to himself.

He'd dismissed Yagami as being entirely acerbic in his vague, ominous warnings earlier... now, he was starting to think there might have been some shred of light in that black soul of his.

The more glimpses he gained into the seedy underpinnings of this group he now found himself involved with, the more he was starting to see what Yagami must have been dealing with and the more he was regretting his own position which seemed to be the one Yagami had recently vacated._ He's still an asshole, though,_ Aiber thought with irritation. He'd decided, however, to heed the brunet's impromptu advice, jotting it down as a mental note which would be his field guide to survival.

_Maybe it was Yagami's plan all along to have me switch places with him... to allow him to move freely. That rotten bastard. So while he is off doing what he wants, I am stuck here in his stead._

Aiber glanced over to the empty chair that had been meant for L.

The one bright spot to all of this had been how much closer he'd been able to get to the other detective. Enough so that he had seen through the cracks of his calm, collected, unflappable exterior, to the indecisive human underneath. To the flesh and blood beneath his seemingly mechanical façade. Aiber had looked forward to this meeting, if only because it was a chance to remain in L's eyesight, unavoidable after the words they'd exchanged, and that it would allow him to study his longtime acquaintance uninterrupted. It wasn't quite the same as the satisfying, thrilling feel of having L within his grasp, but it would do. It would be more than enough, in time, to allow him to start breaking the dark-haired detective down. He would carve his own niche, just as Yagami had, and in time, he might be able to beat the demon at his own game.

He tapped the pen against his finger, already blaming the brunet for L's absence.

Across the table from him was a blonde woman who had announced that she would be filling in for Raito. It irked Aiber that the room accepted that and moved on, whereas he himself was stuck on the fact that Yagami wasn't even supposed to be present. **L** was. That bore significance, did it not? That _Raito'_s assistant was filling in for the detective? Were they sharing the PA, or was her presence a truer indication that his smooth-talking ex-employer was indeed keeping L from being present?

She glanced up, catching Aiber's eye and he realized he'd been staring. She winked at him with a playful gleam in her eye, the only change in her very professional expression.

He wasn't sure if it was her way of confirming his unspoken suspicions, or if the behavior was flirtatious.

Perhaps both?

He scribbled some meaningless words down while tuning back into the meeting. He had no intention of letting her get any sort of hooks in him. He needed to play his cards close to his chest.  
_  
'Don't make Misa jealous.'_

_Oh, fuck you, Yagami,_ he thought._Like I want to get involved with anyone else, let alone another blonde who is tied to this place.  
_  
Yet his eyes drifted back over Hal, the blonde in question. Her blue eyes were darker than Misa's and she had a more stately air about her... almost a secretive feel to her business chic appearance. Misa was more cherubic and princess-like. They probably were not that far apart in age, but they seemed vastly different in a way that was very like age.

Again she caught his eye by looking up too quickly. His expression soured. She, on the other hand, hid amusement behind a delicate cough.

Was it giving Yagami too much credit to think that he'd had a hand in this? That he would do something like offer a warning, yet try to sabotage his rival with the very thing he had warned him about? Or did this have nothing to do with that demon child at all?

Even if it did not, Aiber harbored no warm and friendly feelings towards the brunet. He fully intended to get even, to inflict some damage, and to wrest L from those greedy, entitled fingers.

Was there a way to turn this around? A way to throw Yagami back into the hot seat, back under Chairman Amane's thumb, and to liberate himself in the process? He rested the end of the pen against his lip. Without Amane's support, he'd be back in custody. Without Misa's affection, the same. Hmn... It was a tricky situation, to be sure. Was there no way then to stay in this spot, and still have what he really wanted? More than anything, he wanted a crack at L. More than a crack.

It would be hard to come by the chance, as both the Amanes watched his every move, but perhaps he could still find a way to move independently. He did not feel that his conversation with L was by any means over. He fully intended to explore it further, and in great detail. All he needed to do was get the detective alone.

He bit down on the pen and felt it press into his lower lip, distractedly thinking of L.

* * *

"Truth or Dare? What are you, 12?"

"Now, now, L, dear," Celia shushed him, "don't get so worked up at Raito. I'm sure it will be plenty of fun."

Raito smiled congenially at the room, perfectly contained and emanating an aura of trying to harmlessly entertain them all.

L chewed nails in silence. This was so beyond stupid...

"Ah, I have never played this 'game' before," Watari said.

"You aren't missing anything," L grumbled.

"Oh, so you've played before?" Raito asked, a sharpness lurking in his tone. "With whom?"

L waved him off. "It doesn't matter." Not only was the evening unfolding in a completely unanticipated fashion, but Raito seemed bent on torturing him in new and unusual ways. He tried not to think that he was disappointed, and that he would much preferred the sort of torment that he'd originally imagined (and what seemed to be the brunet's specialty.)

Tonight was an unscripted play.

Dinner with Watari and Celia was a bland affair, though not unenjoyable, really... just... it was so tame in comparison with what might have been in store. And beneath it all was an edge of anticipation. When would the other shoe drop? What was Raito really up to? This was too out of character for him. L was at his mercy, and yet this is what he'd come up with. What was the hidden meaning? There had to be one...

"Ok," Celia said with a small, excited clap of her hands. They were not quite finished wallowing in their assessing looks of each other from where they sat around the kitchen table in L and Watari's rented abode, but that was probably why she was putting an end to it. "I know how this works, so I guess I'll go first."

L didn't bother to mention that Watari was the only one who did not seem to know how this worked.

"Oh, this can be such fun," she said as an aside. She was fixing each of them with a speculative look in turn, as if trying to choose where to begin. "And a great way to get to know each other!"

L surreptitiously glanced at Raito. This was all too bland for the brunet. It didn't fit him at all. What on Earth had prompted his invitation for all of them to eat together and spend time like this? Yet he was sitting there at his end of the table looking perfectly at ease and devoid of any sense of urgency. As if he were right at home. He'd even downplayed his earlier antagonism with Watari, which he'd displayed the last time they were here.

"Ok, Raito!" she said, spinning to him. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

L raised a brow. Raito _did_ understand how this game was supposed to work, didn't he? With his propensity for lying, it seemed unlikely the brunet would be playing by the rules. And if he were to adhere to this game's code, wouldn't picking 'dare' make more sense?

"What is your favorite color?" Celia declared her question with a flourish.

Raito smiled engagingly. "However am I to answer such a direct question as _that_ in mixed company, Miss Celia?" He winked.

"Oh you," She huffed, a little flustered. "I thought we could start out with the easy ones first."

"Well, if you must know..." Raito trailed, gaining everyone's fixed attention quite effortlessly. "It is the very shade of blue you are wearing this evening."

Celia flushed pink with the flattery. Watari muttered something about his being convinced that it was a total lie.

"A lie, Watari-san? What would make you suspect such a thing?"

Watari sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "It is too convenient, for one."

Raito was getting a bit of the energized sharp look, like he wouldn't mind engaging in a proper clashing of wills. It was probably too subtle for the others to see, but L noticed the thrill of challenge sparking in his amber eyes, banked beneath the civility.

"L, is that really his favorite color?" Watari demanded of his protégé.

L was sure he did not want to get involved. He shrugged.

Celia frowned. "Is this really going to be a problem with all of you?" She looked taken aback, as if this was all absolutely ridiculous. "It's a _game_." She viewed their closed off faces and sighed. "Ok, then. If we can't be adults about this..." She turned to Raito. "Would you mind terribly if your turns were just 'dare', dear? I can't see any other way around this."

Raito feigned a sigh and shrugged as if trying to dislodge a heavy weight, which unfortunately remained in place. "If that will appease everyone."

L caught, however, the tiny flicker of humor in his amber eyes as he glanced at his companion. How convenient for Raito that he was now absolved of 'truth'. The jerk had probably planned it that way from the start. Now even L was barred from trying to procure information from him in the scope of the game, whereas Raito could ask anyone else anything he wanted.

"Very well, my turn, I presume?" Raito asked, good humor filtering back into his expression as if he were trying to banish the unpleasantness of a moment ago. His eyes swung towards L for a long moment, digging into him as if threatening him with what might be asked. L's mouth compressed in a thin line as the brunet's gaze intensified with a dangerously playful look.

"Watari-san," Raito said before finally shifting his gaze. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," the British man said staunchly, as if certain that saying 'dare' might lead him to a tragic end.

"How long have you been working with L?"

This was not an idle question. L sensed his interest. It was in the poise of his body, in the weight of his eyes... So he _was_ using this game to procure information?

Watari thought about that for a while. His white moustache shifted in a half-hearted waggle as he counted the years in his head. "About 12 years?"

"Oh my! So you knew L-kun since he was practically a _baby_," the older woman exclaimed. "What was he like?"

Watari glanced at L. L shook his head slightly, discouraging elaboration. He felt Raito's greedy mind poised at the reservoir of knowledge, and he found he did not want to oblige him. Besides, that was a whole separate question.

"My turn then," Watari said. He looked at Raito as if he _really_ wanted to ask him any number of questions. His eyes even narrowed a bit as he remembered that he was unallowed to. His expression accused Raito of having orchestrated that on purpose. The slight smirk on Raito's lips did nothing to dispel that accusation.

Turning to L, he said, "Truth or dare?"

L chewed on his lip a moment. Watari's questions should not be too probing... "Truth?"

"What made you start dressing so differently recently?"

L blanched. So direct! "Ah... That was..." Watari's questions were supposed to be safe! _What gives!_ "That was my attempt to shake things up a little bit. It is too easy to become a creature of habit." There. That should suffice.

"I think you look brilliant, L-kun," Celia said encouragingly. "Good for you, trying something different."

L tried to offer a smile. "Truth or dare?" he asked her.

"Dare!"

L tried thinking of something that might be dare-worthy, but it was somewhat difficult. Raito waved him over. L grudgingly leaned over to accept advice.

"Are you eagerly anticipating what I might do with my turn once it rolls around?" the brunet said in a low voice that jagged through L's relative calm. The words swirled on his tongue like cream. "...what I might dare you to do?"

L pulled back abruptly, fighting off any sort of reaction to those words while Raito's eyes dragged at him, trying to submerge him in their intensity.

"So..." L said quickly, turning back to Watari's lady friend. "When are the two of you going to get married or something?"  
_  
Oops._

Celia laughed kind of nervously. "Well," she looked at Watari, who also looked put on the spot. "We haven't really committed to anything yet... but we talked about maybe trying living together in the future..." She looked embarrassed, like admitting as much was more like she was answering a question like 'are you sleeping together?'.

L was sorry he'd asked. He hadn't meant to make things more awkward.

"Um... Truth or dare, dear?" Celia asked him quickly.

"Truth," he said, feeling he owed her that.

"How have things worked out with the girl you were seeing?"

L froze. "Girl?" Oh no, he could feel Raito's gaze press upon him like razor wire. He could only hope to derail this question. He tried to feign ignorance. The only girl she could mean is the one she mistook Raito for, due to lack of information...

Celia warmed up to the question. "You know, the one you were telling me about?"

_No, no, no._"Um." _Confused. Act confused!_ "I'm not sure what- "

Celia laughed a little as if perplexed at how he couldn't remember and that she was sure he was just being shy. "You told me about her a while back." He was shaking his head. _Please don't..._"The one with the beautiful eyes that knew several languages?"

_Goddamnit!_ Raito was sure to figure this out in a heartbeat-

"You don't say," Raito said with an air of smugness, the dangerous aura he'd been emitting mellowing into something rife with a different sort of interest. "What did you say that her name was again?"

"I didn't," L muttered.

"You know, I'm not sure, sweetie," Celia said to Raito. "What was her name, dear?"

"I do believe that would count as another question," L said unhelpfully.

"You never answered the original question," Raito pointed out. "If you don't answer, are you willing to take a penalty?"

"What kind of penalty?" L asked suspiciously.

"The kind where it will suddenly be my turn," he said silkily.

"It can't be your turn next, it would be Celia-"

"Ah, but she went twice in a row by accident." Raito rounded on him, making his heart rate pick up its pace. "We should really even it out. And I say that your turn should be a dare." Raito's gaze was like a snake's. He was planning something evil. Scandalously enough, as L watched, the tip of his pink tongue slid out to delicately wet his lips, drawing attention to their fullness in a way that was totally inappropriate in this setting. In _any_ setting!

Watari cleared his throat. "Or it could be my turn," he said. His expression said that he knew the serpent Raito was, and that he was not about to let L get swallowed whole.

That malicious light shone in Raito's eyes. "Oh, but I am the only one who has yet to have a turn, Watari-san. Surely we should be fair about this?"

"Truth," L said quickly, trying to dispel the tension.

Raito's lips curved into a smile that did not set L at ease. "Why don't you elaborate on this girl you've met? Tell us what she looks like?"

"Oh, and tell us when we are going to meet her," Celia chimed in as L's face flushed.

"I-I have nothing to say about that!" L stood, scraping his chair back. He wasn't going to try and describe this imaginary girl until it was obviously really the brunet sitting at the table. He'd forfeit the game instead.

"Or if that isn't to your liking, how about a dare?" Raito offered slyly.

L's attention swung from him to Celia and back again. He was starting to feel caged. He doubted this next offer would be any better. But Raito seemed bent on continuing this little game, whether L wanted to or not. Maybe he should make a break for it.

"I dare you," Raito drawled before L could get around the table, "to move in with me."

L froze. As in, really and truly freezing to stillness in a way that made prior freezing seem like merely a turn of phrase. He felt his mouth gaping slightly, harboring his shallow breaths.

Watari's chair scraped back as he stood abruptly. "Why would he want to do that?" It was accusing, as if the man were really asking if they were in fact sleeping together.

"Didn't he tell you?" Raito asked with feigned innocence.

"Raito, be quiet," L warned him quietly, not ready to hear the blunt words that would, at any moment, be falling from his treacherous mouth. His heart was beating steadily faster and he was sure it would soon be visible to the naked eye.

Raito, of course, hating being told what to do, continued. "Didn't he tell you we-"

"Raito!" L bit out, leveling a harsh glare at him as he slammed his hand down upon the table. He couldn't bear a replay of Raito's 'we're sleeping together' bit as he had endured at Raito's parent's house. He wouldn't stand for it.

The room grew awkwardly silent.

"-get along famously, I was going to say," Raito trailed. "Though it hardly looks that way at the moment, does it." It was hard to tell if that was really all he'd been about to say or if he was merely reacting to L putting his foot down.

"There is no reason for L to be moving in with someone like you," Watari said staunchly after the echo of L's outburst had faded. Celia looked distinctly uncomfortable and seemed to be feeling bad for Raito.

"Someone like me?" Raito dropped the wounded act and bared his fangs. "Would you care to elaborate, Watari-_san_? Unless your biggest protest is that it would make things too convenient with Celia-san, and you have cold feet."

"Raito," she said in a hushed voice, looking anxiously between him and Watari as L was promptly forgotten.

"You know nothing about Celia or myself," Watari said scathingly. "So don't you dare try and drive a wedge between us to suit your needs. You are underhanded and self-serving, and I don't doubt for a minute what your intentions with this are. Yes, it may be crowded here with the three of us, but I am not going to allow you to do what you want and pull L into it."

Raito gave him a deadpan look. "It hardly seems fitting for a man to have his honor defended by another man while he is yet in the room."

Raito turned to the lone woman in the room. "Celia-san, might I present you with the 'girl' that you were most mistakenly informed about?" He bowed with a flourish, presenting himself.

L nearly freaked out. So Raito _was_ going to air their relationship one way or another!

"But..." she looked a little taken aback. She met his gaze though as he rose from his bow and L fought the urge to crawl under the table. "Well, I mean..." she floundered a bit, unsure of what to say or if this was all a joke. "You do have pretty eyes... " She'd obviously decided coming about this from an analytical perspective. "Do you speak several languages as well?"

"(I speak perfect English, as do you yourself, if I am judging your accent properly.)" he said in English. "((I also speak better French than my friend here cares to admit, but I believe he has merely been too long without practice.))" he continued in French. "Need I say more?" he finished in Japanese.

"Friend, you say," Watari latched onto that term with tenacity. "Is it really all you see him as?"

Raito spread his hands in apology. "I have no idea how it came about that I was described as being of the feminine persuasion, and I am deeply sorry for any confusion that might have caused, but I doubt L ever intended to describe me as anything more than a friend. We have not known each other long, after all."

The alarms going off in L's head, which were so loud and debilitating that he'd been unable to act, lowered in volume and frequency as he detected the brunet doing one of his skillful turnabouts. It was dizzying trying to keep track of Raito's intent. One minute he seemed set on exposing things L felt were better kept hidden, and the next moment, he was preserving secrecy with his evasive style of speaking and his leading apologies.

"That... That might be my fault," Celia offered. "I saw L-kun on his way out a couple of nights ago and I assumed he was going out on a date. I know he is a little... unpracticed with people and he probably felt pressured to answer me in the way I was asking him." She looked over at L, who was dumbfounded. "Can you forgive me, L-kun? You just described the first person to pop into your head when I put you on the spot, didn't you? I'm really sorry."

L nodded slowly. He felt Raito's triumph on his one side, and Watari's stewing malcontent on his other. Celia's guilt was making her oblivious to the one glaring problem with this story, though the same was not true of his mentor. "What person in their right mind would describe a _friend_'s eyes as beautiful, then?"

"Um..." L said, not helping his case.

"Watari," Celia said, "This is L-kun we are talking about. He obviously didn't mean anything by it, it was just his choice of wording. Raito-kun does have nice eyes, and it probably just came out wrong. If I wasn't so convinced L-kun was meeting someone for... you know... he might have said it differently."

Watari remained unconvinced, but decided not to debate the matter further.

"Perhaps we should call it a night," Raito said ruefully. "I'm sorry for my part in such a spirited exchange."

"Don't you even worry about it, Raito-kun," Celia said, wringing her hands a little. "We're sorry too. And don't you feel like you have to leave, either. We were about to retire, so you two just feel free to have the run of the place."

"Thank you, I wouldn't want to intrude." Raito said demurely, playing favorites way too easily. Watari was still bristling over the affair, but looked like he did not want to be chastised further by the well-meaning Celia. "Though my friend does owe me a game of chess that we have been meaning to get to for some time now."

"I have the board in my room," L offered grudgingly. "Unless you prefer to challenge me online?"_ That would be infinitely less awkward...  
_  
"L-kun," Celia looked puzzled, "if you did that, then how would you even talk to each other?"

"Well you see, most computers come equipped with micropho-"

"Don't be silly, dear. You're taking the human element right out of it."

L thought that was precisely the point. He could _do without_ it when it came to Raito... having the human element proved to be quite overwhelming at the best of times.

"I agree," Raito deigned to speak, a loftiness hiding within his voice which hinted at deeper currents of thoughts milling beneath the acceptable words. "Besides, I am in front of computers most of the day at work. A change of pace is good once in a while."

* * *

Once in the relative safety of L's room, Raito exploded. "Do you have _any_ idea how _**irritating**_ it is for me to tiptoe around these people, denying your real connection to me?"

"It's your decision to tell_ your_ family plainly that we're sleeping together," L fought back, "but it is _my_ right to decide if mine knows."

"They aren't even related to you-!"

L felt his face close off, his expression sealed as Raito's careless words racketed inside him, stirring anger. How pompous and entitled this prince before him was. "I live with them... eat with them," he ground out. "It's the same difference!"_ Is it my fault that I have no proper family? Am I to be judged and looked down upon for being untraditional? As if I had control over the actions of my parents, or that I have no right to claim familial ties with people that have acted more like family than mine ever did?_

"It _isn't_," Raito stressed, "but the point is, I was not going to actually say anything more than I said."

L switched gears, disliking the topic of family anyway. "So you were happy to make me _think_ you were going to? Is it so pleasant to watch me freak out?"

"Stop yelling, it's getting on my nerves."

"_Your_ nerves?"

"Stop it, Lawliet," Raito growled, pushing him roughly backwards and harrying him. "Your attitude is starting to piss me off. I've done _plenty_ for your sake. The fact that you would quibble over a little teasing is _pathetic_."

L found the bed bumping the backs of his knees. "Pathetic?" Indignation swirled inside him, mixing with the ill feelings that Raito had already raised just moments ago. "That I ask you to treat me with a modicum of respect?"

Raito leaned in with a sharp expression on his face. "You would be well aware of it if I decided to treat you without respect..." L leaned back a little, a reflexive movement, and one that could not be taken back with how close the brunet was hounding him. Now he was not only trying to stand his ground, but also trying not to fall onto the bed. It always came back to beds, didn't it? "You would be well aware of it if I stopped trusting you." Aaaand the leaning was fast becoming a severe problem. "You must just take everything I do for granted, then. You think nothing of being invited into my home, nothing of my honesty, and _nothing_ of the things I do to cater to you."

_Oh crap,_ L thought as he lost his balance with a windmilling of arms.

He fell upon the bed and Raito looked down upon him with a look torn between anger and entitlement. It wasn't a look that L was enjoying having directed at him.

"Raito..." L, now without the impending danger of his imminent fall to distract him, began to process that last batch of words directed at him. Raito hadn't lost the expression that had been pissing L off, yet...it seemed different. Something made L feel like beneath that snobbish attitude, the brunet was... hurt? Incongruous though it seemed, L was sure it was something along those lines._ Is that why I am now feeling guilt?_ It was a strange feeling, foreign in the face of the anger that had just been swallowing him. There was guilt, and also regret that the normal interaction between them was so far out of reach. They twisted in his chest, nesting inside the anger that was still sliding and whispering through his veins.

"I believe you owe me something for today."

Raito's tone was becoming even icier. L swallowed. He felt wary, and uncertain whether he would continue to want to make amends in this situation. "For..?"

"For leaving your pride intact after we exited the elevator? By keeping our activities from public notice."

_Oh,_ L thought with shame as the situation he'd tried to thrust from him immediate memory came flowing back - intense eyes that were not unpleased with him... slow, agonizingly sensual kisses... a hot whispering in his ear and the hand covering his eyes... His own voice choking on the feel of Raito's body against his..._Oh.__** That.**_

"You agreed to do anything I said for the remainder," Raito reminded him stonily, "Or did you_ forget_, amidst all your feelings of unfair treatment, and me still asking _nothing_ of you?"

L bit at the inside of his lip, worrying the flesh. He hadn't meant for things to be like this. It was unnerving to see Raito act so angrily and dismissively. Especially when not 10 minutes ago, he'd been on the other end of some rather lascivious looks. This drastic change in demeanor was unnerving. Confusing. He didn't like the instability of it. "Rai-"

"Take off your shirt," came the imperious command.

L frowned, complying for the moment, but...

He paused, the shirt still wrapped around his arms, the air cool against his bared skin. He failed to see how removing his shirt would do anything for the situation. He also did not particularly like being ordered around. He was about to argue such, but his voice froze in his throat. Raito's look had darkened abruptly as he even thought to attempt it, and he meekly relented on the shirt altogether.

Cowed, he watched the lean, militant brunet stride over to his closet and fling it wide.

"Close your eyes," came the sharp demand from said brunet.

Irritation peaked a little as L did what he was told. He did not like being told what to do, especially in such a snappish tone. But he especially was not fond of these sorts of moods from the brunet, and was hoping that playing along would let it pass.

The next thing he knew, his arms were being pulled together in front of him, forearms stacked and aligned wrist to elbow then bound with his black leather belt which had been living, unmolested, in his closet for some time now. Playing along was becoming more difficult already. "Raito... I really don't think..." He fussed with the binding, not liking the immovable restriction it provided.

"Quiet," Raito said, spurring him to stillness. The word reverberated in his ears, heavy and containing something unnameable.

A tie from his closet was bound over his eyes, taking his vision with it.

He bit his lip hard, seriously not liking this, and finding it difficult not to ask Raito what he was doing.

"Stand up."

"Right here?" L asked. Did it make sense to stand on the bed? Or was he supposed to crawl off the bed to stand on the floor?

There was an extremely pointed silence.

L clambered to his feet as best as he could, impeded by the state of his arms. What the fuck? He was seriously growing tired of this and was getting extremely close to... saying...

His inner ranting trailed off as he felt hands slide up the insides of his clothed thighs and slowly back down again. _What...?_ He shuddered as they ran up higher each time, threatening to deviate from their path. He tried to remain unaffected, but Raito touching him at all seemed so incongruous with everything that it was just so totally unexpected.

His stomach jerked as those hands alighted on the front of his pants, unfastening them with deliberate slowness, and drawing the zipper down for what felt like an eternity. Then the cloth was peeled back, baring part of him within the V of that gaping opening.

He felt something brush against him there, against the cotton fabric of his underwear, the barest of touches brushing intimately against hidden flesh, making it stir. L tried to not react. He tried to remain unaffected. He tried, but he could feel a blush begin to ravage his cheeks as increased pressure and heat identified the brushing caresses as being from wandering lips and a mouth that was not mindful of the cloth that was in the way. A hungry mouth which was tasting and tormenting him, making his legs shake and his breath come in short gasps as he fought off the sensations.

L felt those hands on his hips, playing at his skin before dragging his pants lower. More exposed now to the mouth that was undoing him, he bit at his lips to distract himself from his swelling flesh and the hot mouth that was making it ache so severely. Not to mention the hand that was slipping around behind him, caressing the curve of his backside, kneading, and sliding between...

L's arms spasmed in their restraints and he wanted so badly to take off the blindfold.

What was Raito's intent? What was he hoping to accomplish?

He moaned against his will, even though he was biting his lip against making the sound. Raito must've slid his underwear down, because what he was feeling now was the embrace of Raito's hot, sinful mouth against his bare skin, and the caress of a skilled tongue cradling his aching flesh. He swayed on his feet, unsure of how long the flagging strength in his legs would last. His posture was caving in on itself, and his mind was rapidly able to affix to nothing but that decadent heat and the trailing caresses upon his backside.

Just as he thought he couldn't hold up another minute, mouth and hands left him. He sank to his knees, crumpling as the stimuli ceased and the fight went out of him. He was breathing fast and shallow, unable to get enough air. His face was inflamed, but he was far too painfully aroused to notice. It was difficult to concentrate on breathing and ignore the throbbing between his legs.

If this was Raito's way of 'punishing' him, he wasn't going to make it easy for him. He wouldn't... sit here begging for release. He'd calm his body down somehow... He wouldn't let himself be on display, if that's what this was.

"Take off your pants," Raito's voice slid into his ear. It was as if the brunet was wrapped and coiled around his body, caging helpless prey. He wasn't helpless. He wasn't trembling.

L wilfully tugged against his restrained arms.

"Lawliet," that voice warned him sharply, curbing his rebellion with clipped tones. Threats lay in those tones like jeweled promises.

L twitched. He did not like this. He did not wish to comply with this... whatever _this_ was.

_I should put a stop to it...  
_  
But he felt strangely unable to act, and his pulse was racing in his ears like deafening white noise. Raito's lips brushed against his neck then, feather light, tracing his skin maddeningly... pulling another muffled noise from his throat as the flesh he could not ignore throbbed in reaction. He could not see, but he could feel the closeness of the brunet, could taste the thickened air, could envision his beatific face which was so close to his own... could almost see the fringe of dark lashes that hid his clever eyes, the silky hair that fell across them... and those wicked lips which made as as if to soothe him as they gently worshipped his skin, though they devoured his tenuous self-control instead.

"The door is closed, for now," Raito murmured, gently tasting L's mouth as he lay the threat upon it. "Do as I say."

Frustration surged through L once more at the way Raito was pulling his strings, at his bound arms which seemed to make it impossible to do what was asked of him, and the loss of his vision. That, and he didn't really doubt that the brunet would do something as horrifying as displaying their relationship to the other people in the house in the worst possible way.

"Raito..."

"Shhh." Raito's hands smoothed down his thighs, a caress that seemed to last forever, making him shiver. They caught upon L's pants and pulled them down to his knees. The weight upon the bed shifted as Raito moved back. A long leg slid between L's own, naked flesh kissing his thighs and forcing them wider. "Now crawl towards me."

L bit his lip hard and shifted his weight to take that first dragging step on his knees. His pants released their hold as his right leg slid forward, and he realized that the brunet's leg must be pinning them in place. He couldn't so much 'crawl' as he would have needed his arms for that, but he moved forward on his knees, leaving his clothes behind.

Suspiciously, the farther forward he got, the wider his stance was forced to become. He deeply suspected that he was in fact straddling the brunet's legs, a position which did not leave much to the imagination.  
_  
His very naked legs..._

Once more, L's face was burning and embarrassment stilled his progress. He wanted to run away. _How far forward am I expected to go?_ And if Raito's lean body really _was_ as nude as his own...

"Come, Lawliet."

"But-"

"Or would you like me to display to you why I left your mouth free?"

L frowned, hoping it wasn't the oft implied threat Raito had employed on many occasions... The one that bore testament to the brunet's overblown confidence in his ability to make him cry out (which it probably was).

_...not that it's completely unfounded confidence..._

...but L did not like to dwell on things which involved not being in control of himself.

L doggedly moved forward again, noticing the flare of the brunet's hips as he came upon them, grimacing a little as his own legs were forced wider. He was still painfully aroused, doing his best to forget that detail, and mourning the suffering of his dignity. It was hard not to imagine the smooth body beneath his, or the scandalous position he kept.

"Stop," Raito murmured huskily just as L felt the tapering of the brunet's waist between his knees.

L's heart thudded loudly in response to the quality of his voice. Raito's voice was always pleasing to hear, and often sexy, but just now... He swallowed, chasing the sensation that had coursed through him.

Raito's hands slid up the backs of his thighs, stroking and kneading his flesh with sure hands._ Is he going to...?_

All it would take was firm hands upon his hips, pulling him down... guiding him onto the brunet's lap... L wondered if the brunet was anywhere near as worked up as he was at this moment and if he was thinking to maybe... L couldn't finish the thought, though his body ached for the image in his head and desperately wanted the feel of Raito inside of him. _No! I..._

Raito pulled L's hips forward abruptly, catching L by surprise as his mouth closed over hardened flesh. L almost cried out at the intensity of being consumed by such engulfing heat. He clenched his teeth against it, gasping as the pleasure of it lapped at him in ever overwhelming waves.

If only he had something to hold onto... something with which to steady himself... to brace him against this onslaught.

He'd all but lost track of his surroundings. His legs were shaking, tremors racing up and down as they threatened to buckle. He couldn't think. Couldn't see. Couldn't hear, except for the rushing in his ears and the powerful pumping of his heart. Sensation was gathering like a great wave, dragging at him and threatening to drown him under the force of it when its looming form finally broke.

Cool air branded L's flesh as Raito released him.

"Do you want me to continue?" Raito said in what seemed to be a neutral voice. He was no longer mocking, but L was in no state to properly dissect tones and inflections.

Unfortunately, L was also in no state to convey the limitations of a simple 'yes' or 'no' which was all he would be able to manage. Yes, he wanted this. No, he didn't like this. He was all twisted up and at the mercy of his body, bereft without the normal functioning of his brain. He was also at Raito's mercy...

A hand trailed down L's stomach, drawing a line that speared through to the core of him. He was becoming sick with the feel of desire.

"Shall I decide for you?"

"Stop it," L said, barely audible.

Thinking hurt. Talking hurt.

Just existing was beginning to hurt.

His stomach curled and clenched emptily. His body was burning and taking him with it.

Cool hands graced his face, slipping behind his neck and forcing him to bow his head. Raito's lips reached his, sharpening his turmoil with their tender attentions. It battered against the walls of his resistance, cornering him in his own head.

"Give in to me," Raito whispered darkly, enticingly.

L tried to pull away, feeling crippled once more by the blindfold and his own debased reaction to those words. But he could not escape. Raito held him in place and forced his way into L's mouth, owning it and bending it to his will, wrenching submission from him in no uncertain terms.

L hated how his body reacted to that.

Betraying him so.

Not fighting hard enough while Raito's hands skimmed down his shaking body... Not resisting nearly hard enough while those hands found his hips and dragged him down upon the hard flesh that waited to live inside of him. No, his bound arms should not have settled around Raito's neck in the facsimile of an embrace... His breath should not have been coming in ragged gasps as Raito's lust slid up inside of him, inch by soul-stealing inch, until he was pinioned and unable to move. He felt Raito's naked chest and shoulders beneath his arms and cheek as he sagged against him like a rag doll. He could feel the throbbing of that other part inside of him, slick and constricted by the protesting walls of his desire-ridden body.

He felt like he was going to explode.

Raito had done nothing to ease his entry, save whatever he had spread upon himself, and yet that entry was still possible. There had been no pain, just the unbelievable tightness and friction of it. Just the unbelievably dirty and wanton feel of it being just this side of too much.

Raito's heart was beating hard in his chest.

He was nowhere near as calm and collected as he tried to play off.

A hand skated up L's back from the base of his spine, drawing his body taut. Raito bent towards his chest, lips playing at his skin, setting off a flurry of fluttering in L's stomach with each possessive touch. His body clenched around the flesh it held, the aching intensifying maddeningly, and he heard a soft gasp issue from the brunet's mouth. Again, reaction sizzled through him, and his body tensed against it.

Again he heard and felt the brunet react, and the mouth upon his skin became more insistent.

It was a vicious cycle, one that left him no time for tired limbs and lethargy. Raito's hands stoked his back, flowed over his hips, touching everywhere and bringing the aching, tingling, hungering feelings that much more at hand. He could hear his own shallow, soft panting. And the errant hitches of breath he could not control.

Raito rocked his hips then, gripping L's hips in place with solicitous fingers, making him gasp aloud as pleasure and discomfort swamped him. "Rai...to..." He couldn't prevent the name passing his lips. It slipped out unconsciously and unbidden. He could only think of the intensity of that feeling and the mindless desire that this person gave him... To wish for, and be fulfilled when the motion repeated... To seek the mouth that sought his, to revel in the hot, wet union of lips and tongues and drink the passion that was there for the taking...

L felt Raito slip his arms from around his neck, breaking the kiss to finish it, then dragging him down... down... until he was leaning over the partially reclining brunet, partaking of his mouth once more.  
_  
This position...  
_  
L moaned into the kiss as Raito thrust up into him, now being of a position to do so. _Good god..._

Raito slid almost out of him before thrusting back in deeper than before, his mouth devouring L's, his hands becoming greedy vices upon L's hips.

Kisses were too hard to maintain.

Raito leaned forward, fully seated within L, and pressed haphazard kisses upon his lips and cheeks. "Stay like that," he said, barely above a whisper, his voice distorted with lust.

L had no idea what he meant until he felt Raito move away, and could tell by the shift in his body that the brunet was now lying upon his back. L was straddling him, fully upright.

Humiliating would be a word for it. Raito would be able to see everything.

"No," L denounced it, everything. His hands were tied, so to speak, but he was still of a mind to protest _this_ at least. "I can't..."

Raito's hands on his hips stilled his words, blinding him with wicked sensation as he was lifted up and then pulled back down upon Raito's arousal. "Yes," the brunet's breath escaped as a word. L was not sure if it was in argument or affirmation. Raito was rolling them into a rhythm that had nothing to do with coherent thought. Only wanting.

It was all too much to escape. He couldn't control himself any longer...

L's body began to move of its own accord, anticipating the brunet's thrusts, encouraging them and drawing them out. Slowly, he was moving the brunet to his own rhythm, hearing the fervid sounds fall sexily from Raito's distant mouth.  
_  
He was so angry before..._

_But now...  
_  
Now Raito had him in this situation and, by all accounts, Raito seemed to have complete control. Yet L could feel him coming undone. Raito was not as much in control as one would be led to believe. Was he ever? Was it all just an elaborate act that made him so untouchable and so intimidating... charming... and... worthwhile?

How did anger lead to sex, unless Raito was merely acting like a child, trying to throw his weight around and gain his way?

This line of thinking was strangely out of the reality of the moment, as if separated from his waking mind. He couldn't think, and yet he could make such observations. No, it was more like thoughts that were drifting into his head from somewhere else. He couldn't affect them any more than he could cease the actions of his body which was nearly burning alive.

He wished that he'd not had the cloth over his eyes. It was unfair that Raito was allowed to look upon him, when he was not afforded the same luxury. He wanted to look into his face, and see whatever flickers crossed those features or burned within those eyes. Was this secrecy what enabled Raito to let go more than he ever had before?  
_  
So many secrets...  
_  
L's breath sucked in as a gasp, the growing, pulsing ache in his groin magnified as pleasure stuttered through him in punching bursts. Raito's slender fingers upon his arousal were unraveling his being. More so because of the fine shaking of their touch.

L's chest tightened at that, feeling more affected than he could have anticipated at the minuscule sign of weakness from his partner.  
_  
Such a... spoiled child..._

The thought sputtered out in the cresting wave of impending release. He didn't even hear the muffled sound of his name as Raito's body arched beneath his, spearing him mercilessly at the pinnacle of his orgasm. It was all L could do to stay silent, to not betray their joining further with a vocalization that the others would hear. Because that wasn't what he wanted. Wasn't...

Hadn't Raito crept into enough areas of his life uninvited? Did he mean to have it all?

Raito had his time, his thoughts, his... love. What more did he need? Did he really have to take away his dignity, independence, and even interfere with his career?

"Lawliet," Raito's voice crashed through everything, tugging sharply at that place in his chest that was becoming so very abused. He never tired of his name on the brunet's lips, or the inflections he could force upon it to mean any number of things. Just now, it was breathy, husky, and... and...

Raito pulled him down into a heated kiss, chasing everything else away. The brunet's body was still shuddering with release, as was L's. The kiss prolonged the lapping waves of pleasure that hadn't yet fled and strangely, created a warmth that was more cerebral than anything else.

Raito rolled them over so that he was on top, his weight creating a pressure that thrummed through L, despite the fact that he should be feeling sated. And, also flying in the face of that was...

"How long are you planning on remaining there?" L said under his breath, his heart was still racing and his breathing had by no means calmed. Raito remained inside of him, and he did not seem to be... disinterested?

Raito stole command of his mouth, managing to make more kisses seem less restrained than before, more solicitous... It was...

L pushed at him, but his arms were fairly useless. "Rai..."

"Don't you like the feel of me inside you, Lawliet?" Raito all but crooned in L's ear, not allowing him any distance at all. He nuzzled the side of L's cheek and neck.

Yes, that was the scandalous part of it. He could feel Raito harden within him as he spoke such insufferable words... Could feel it and could do nothing. He was addicted to this rude and debased person. He still felt desire trickling through his veins, slow like honey.

"I really can't get enough of you," the brunet murmured, gentle as a confession, steely as a threat. "But tonight, I have you where I want you...and I don't feel like holding back."

* * *

A soft _shffft_ noise, like the scuffing of a shoe against carpet, woke Raito from the light sleep he'd slipped into. He sat up, disentangling himself from the clutter of limbs that softly bound him. It was late. Probably 3 a.m. or so. It felt that late or early, as it were, in a timeless sort of way that made it seem as if the world just might have stopped between one breath and the next.

He'd never felt so sated.

His hand drifted over to the form next to him, the cause of this peace. This... contentment?

Lawliet was dead to the world, head buried in a pillow, and would likely remain that way for some time. He had been pushed to his limits and was utterly worn out.

It was a perfect picture. One he wanted emblazoned in his memory. One he wouldn't mind sharing...

"I thought I'd find you here," another's voice said into the dark room.

"I knew you'd come. I wouldn't miss it for the world," Raito said.

Soft footsteps, and then the other was caught in some stray moonlight. It sapped the color from his tawny hair and threw his features into harsh relief like some sort of phantom, but there was no mistaking him. His expression as he looked in the bed, his eyes tracing over the scattered, black and white dishevelment of Lawliet was anger, sorrow, and regret. Raito was naked beneath the sheets, and it was obvious that Lawliet was as well.

Raito traced a hand over L's back. The slim body stirred, but not enough to gain consciousness.

"It was supposed to be me there next to him," Aiber said, coming to the edge of the bed.

Raito's eyes were cat-like as they slanted upwards to look at him.

"I've known him longer," the blond man added.

"And what have you done in that time?" Raito asked, speaking as imperiously as if he were ensconced on a throne. He was openly mocking, as if he did not view his state of undress or the other man's superior strength to mark him at a discernible disadvantage. "Before me, you never thought to act, and now you act both jealous and entitled. You aren't equipped to ensnare him. You've known him longer, and thus your failure is multiplied."

"You think you're so clever," Aiber sneered, rounding on him. "But there are more tools than cleverness that are needed to survive in this world."

"Brute force?"

"I see nothing at your disposal here but your own two hands." Aiber advanced on him, steady, sure, menacing. Lightning fast, his hands closed upon a sleek, tanned throat. Raito's face remained rather calm as his neck was squeezed, a marble statue of stoicism aside from the wince of discomfort. The sheets barely covered his nakedness as his body tightened in resistance. "Which of us do you think has the advantage now?" Aiber asked him, triumph and malice riding the low tones of his voice.

There was a thundercrack of sound, and Aiber's hands loosened.

"That," Raito said, as Aiber slid from him onto the freshly adorned white sheets, making them red, "would be me."

* * *

TBC

A/N: 0_0


	20. Possession

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 20

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N:** I was really happy recently to reconnect with someone I thought I'd lost forever. Old scars just cover wounds that never really heal, and sometimes the only balm for regret is closure. Don't disappear on people! It causes them trauma when they really care about you.

Ha! One of these days the author's note is going to be about the fic. 3

P.S. Listen to the band Mesh. I command you.

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

_

* * *

_

Part 20: (Possession)

_"You think you're so clever," Aiber sneered, rounding on him. "But there are more tools than cleverness that are needed to survive in this world."_

_"Brute force?"_

_"I see nothing at your disposal here but your own two hands." Aiber advanced on him, steady, sure, menacing. Lightning fast, his hands closed upon a sleek, tanned throat. Raito's face remained rather calm as his neck was squeezed, a marble statue of stoicism aside from the wince of discomfort. The sheets barely covered his nakedness as his body tightened in resistance. "Which of us do you think has the advantage now?" Aiber asked him, triumph and malice riding the low tones of his voice._

_There was a thundercrack of sound, and Aiber's hands loosened._

_"That," Raito said, as Aiber slid from him onto the freshly adorned white sheets, making them red, "would be me."_

...

L awoke with a start, breathing hard, the sound of a gunshot still ringing in his ears. He flailed mentally, sure when he saw the unmarked sheets that the dream was merely a dream, but unsure of whether the loud crack of sound hadn't been reality.

Raito was absent.

The white topsheet of the bed was also absent.

Actually, the entire bed was in disarray, the comforter was twisted up and half dragged off of the bed on Raito's side.

Something felt strange. Exceedingly so. And the feeling increased the longer L looked around.

It was nothing painfully obvious. Mostly everything seemed in order. Furniture was as orderly as the room was barren.

The sparse room looked utterly normal in the dim light. Desk, chair, laptop, all were as they'd been left. Still, his eyes skimmed the room, searching for _something_. Something else to build a case for his unease or prove it to be unfounded. _It isn't like it's the first time I've had a vivid dream and woken up like this._ His eyes swept Raito's side of the room once more, over the lamp and bedside table, this time noticing something different. There was something the size of a thick marker on the otherwise bare surface. It was black and actually, on closer inspection, appeared to be a pen flashlight. It wasn't his own, or course. Could it be Raito's?

_What need would he have for a flashlight?_

_Why would he have brought_ that_ over...?  
_  
L's mouth turned down slightly in thought. He was reaching for the device when he heard the door open.

"I see you've finally woken," the brunet said as he slid into the room. His presence commanded L's attention and, like always, L felt the magnetic pull that turned his head and eyes to follow every flicker of motion. Raito drifted up to the bed, bathing in L's focus and keeping it from escaping the steel hooks of his lazy amber gaze. "I'm starting to wonder how it was that you ever suffered from insomnia. You seem to get quite enough sleep when I'm around."

L frowned, a subtle change in the nuance of his typically flat expression. Was it his imagination or was there some suggestiveness hidden in that dismissive tone?

L bristled at the implication that Raito's fierce sex drive and prowess might be so taxing upon him that it would unwittingly be a cure for his insomnia. "As I am not in control of my own sleep patterns, nor my work schedule," L returned, "it's likely that I'm just not being mentally stimulated enough to feel the _need_ to stay awake."

L knew he was probably the only person in the world who would dare to infer that _The_ Raito was boring. Be it true or not, the brunet needed to be taken down a peg, despite the risk involved in doing such a thing.

The dawn was painstakingly slow in illuminating the room, but L could easily see the sharp look that flashed over Raito's face before being smoothed with a dangerous smile.

"Or is it just that you are feeling fatigued after being stimulated in ways with which you were previously unacquainted?"  
_  
Well, there you have it, he just came out and said it._ "I hope that isn't a veiled attempt to flatter yourself."

"There is no need," Raito gave him a condescending look that radiated smugness. "You give me your wordless affirmation _every_ time."

L made a noise of disgust. Raito was being more snotty than usual this morning. It was rather unfortunate, and harder to deal with than usual, seeing as last night...

...well, he probably shouldn't think of last night. If he did, he might show Raito some telltale flush of mortification or something which would feed that boundless ego. L thought it was amazing he had survived at the hands of such stamina. He had no idea what had gotten into the brunet. Minutes had blurred into hours, pleasure and pain had slipped in and amongst each other, and the sound of taxed breaths and sinfully uttered words were the soundtrack to which he'd lost himself over and over.

Raito was right in that way - stimulation of the sort which he'd long been unaccustomed to _was_ wearing him out. But who wouldn't pass out after all of that? And why in the hell was the brunet looking so perky this morning? He was typically awful with mornings, being generally lethargic, scattered, and mussed. Had he snuck coffee? It certainly looked like he'd had time to _shower_...

Raito's silky hair was dark with the water still drying upon it, errant drops gliding slowly over the skin of his bare chest and torso. L hated to think of him walking around the house like this, shirtless, wearing nothing but his slightly low-riding slacks and looking like he might do a strip tease at any moment. It wasn't very proper. It wasn't the sort of thing a 'friend' would do when staying over. 

_Dammit, why does he still look so good to me, even after all we-?_

"You know, Lawliet, I was trying to be more accommodating of you and opted to lose the towel," Raito said as he slid upon the bed. L's heartbeat picked up and he knotted a fist in the sheets as the brunet drifted closer. Raito tipped his face up for inspection, and the firm fingertips under his throat seemed to be feeding from his pulse. "But now that just seems like a waste, what with how you're looking at me."

L turned away, his eyes closing against the feelings of agitation and turmoil. _Is there no end to this desire? Have I become sick in this short time?_ Lips brushed his exposed neck, enticing and wrong. There should be nothing left to call to, no lingering arousal left in the tired, spent shell of his body. But it was Raito, and with him, L never seemed to find himself short of reactions.

"It's presumptuous of you to freely use my house while you stay here," L said in a roughened voice.

Raito pulled back slightly and L's eyes opened to follow him.

Instead of looking irritated, as L had expected, there was a knowing smile flickering at the edges of Raito's sensual lips. "It's almost cute how hard you still fight me. Do you feel compromised, Lawliet?" His voice dropped into a husky whisper, his eyes laughing, "Or maybe you like being broken down every time against your will?"

Anger and affirmation flashed white hot behind L's eyes.

_Bastard_, he thought acidly.

"Get out of my way, I want to shower," he said, breaking Raito's hold on him at last. It was like suddenly being able to breathe again. Like cool air breaking apart the swamping heat that had bound him in place like a lecherous cage.

It wasn't running away - the shower merely offered him freedom. Though it would not offer him escape from his tired, bruised and aching body.

* * *

As soon as Lawliet vacated the room, Raito was able to breathe easier. It was getting harder and harder to hide things from the detective. He'd seen the supposed insomniac's demeanor as he'd entered the room. He'd been searching for something. His pale, lean body had been tensed in concentration, his head swiveling to take in every detail in the room around him.

_Thank god I can still distract him in certain ways...  
_  
Raito wet his lips, still feeling the urge he'd had to kiss his companion. The problem was, he was almost as distracted by such diversions as his intended victim, which made them infinitely less effective. It was darkly amusing at times. Such a thin line of control it was to keep Lawliet in check, and keep himself in check as well. Surely, at some point, he was bound to fail. He retrieved his item from the bedside table. _And then where will we be?_ he mused.

He pocketed the pen flashlight, and made his way over to the closet, relieved once more at his impeccable timing. Lawliet had been mere seconds from having it in his hand. He would have noticed the farce of it.

Oh, it _worked_, of course. He took it back in hand again and shined it through the closet door which was slightly ajar. It was a perfectly functional flashlight.

There was a dull gleam as the LED beam caught on a wave of gold and the duller blue of an unfocused iris.

"You really have been a pain in my ass," Raito murmured companionably as he dropped to his haunches and shone the light unflinchingly into Aiber's eye. "I dare say you have made me work harder than my actual job at times."

It really _had_ been a pain in the ass to deal with Aiber this time. He'd let the blond fool think he had the upper hand, had let the foreigner's fingers wrap around his throat, but then he _had_ him. Aiber was much too close and high on his triumph to notice the pen flashlight waiting in Raito's hand like a restless viper. He'd been much to close to pull away as the stun gun connected with his skin in a lingering 80,000 volt kiss.

The current on this particular model was also strong enough that in those few seconds, the large man had been rendered unconscious. It wouldn't do to have him up and about. He needed securing. He needed to be taught a lesson.

It was a pain dragging him off of the bed without awakening the bed's other occupant.

Luckily, the detective really was dead to the world and unable to do more than twitch at the cracking sound of the stun gun.

Raito felt a lascivious grin spread across his face. It had really been something to be able to be able to wear Lawliet down to the bone - to make him come over and over again until his dark eyes grew hazy with exhaustion and to feel the weakening of his shaking limbs each successive time. It had been utterly liberating to wring passion from that body and his own until there was nothing left but self-satisfaction and the sweet lull of drowsiness calling to him.

He decided he loved the sound of Lawliet's voice when it was hoarse from overuse. He loved the feeling of that resisting body finally giving up and giving in. He loved the feel of Lawliet's hands digging into his back and later, merely twisting into his hair, too spent for anything more. He wanted it all. Needed it all.

Lawliet was a drug on which he'd gladly overdose. And he was sure as hell not letting Aiber get anywhere near him.

Just the thought of anyone touching what was his...

"Wake up, asshole," Raito said in a cutting voice, cuffing Aiber in the head. He was growing too impatient to wait now.

The blue eye's pupil dilated and constricted before squeezing shut.

Raito picked up a sock from the closet floor and shoved it into Aiber's mouth. He didn't care if it was clean or dirty. The only thing of importance was that Aiber be disallowed speech. He was still punchy, which made it not much of an issue, but Raito needed him contained for a little while yet. He'd already bound the man's arms behind his back with an ethernet cable he'd found loitering in the closet. He'd wrapped it tight enough to be uncomfortable, and looped it around Aiber's torso as well. There would be no working it free. Aiber would stay like this until someone else decided otherwise. He would not be leaving under his own power.

The blond man would be unable to change his situation with his own two hands. As it should be.

* * *

Aiber lay in the confined spaces of the dark closet, still trying to piece his mind back into something more stable than jello.

He had not seen this coming. He hadn't noticed the inconspicuous stun gun either until it was coursing an electric current through his body like the stabbing of millions of wicked little needles. The next thing he knew, his muscles were contracting painfully and disorientation swamped him like a fog. He remembered falling but not hitting the ground, the bed, or whatever he might have landed upon.

He let out a slow breath, trying to collect himself. The unpleasant taste of cotton filled his mouth from the sock that had been shoved inside it, his neck felt strained by the awkward half-upright position he was propped up in, and there was something digging into his side just under his ribs. It was likely a shoe.

His vision was still off - he could see enough through the crack in the closet door to verify that - but it seemed to be improving little by little.

Any attempts to sit fully upright were foiled by his swimming head and the unhelpful weak twitching that was all his body seemed capable of at the moment. He should be utterly pissed over this, but he found that took energy he did not have. He settled for irritation and wondered if he might be able to sleep this off.

_No need to get worked up when there is nothing I can do. _

The thought occurred to try and gain L's attention when he next entered the room, but then would come the question of why he'd been here in the first place...and just why Raito had decided to accost him.

* * *

L scrubbed at himself in the shower, irritation crawling over his skin. This was his own house, wasn't it? Shouldn't he have some final say in things? Some final say in _something_?

With Raito, he always felt at a disadvantage. It peeved him, as **that** was something he was most certainly _not_ accustomed to.

His skin burned with the heat of the water and his own determined scrubbing. _He gets the better of me and then taunts me with it. I__** hate **__that._

_And he seriously wants me to live with him? To give up any illusion of control I still possess and put myself in his domain, willingly, so that I have even less to work with and no time to regroup?_

_Work_ - he thought testily, warming to the argument - _I need to be left alone in order to__** work**__..._

_(He has a job, too, and it isn't as if you couldn't work while he's gone)_another part of him pointed out.

_I need a space that could be my own..._

_(He's probably considered that)_

_I can't stand this constant nerve-wracking attention from him._

_(You couldn't bear it if he gave that to anyone else. You know full well you're in too deep and the thought of him being with anyone else-)_

_Shut up!_

L clenched his teeth and strangled the washcloth in his hands. He was getting sick of arguing with himself. It was going nowhere.

He was fully capable of resisting the brunet and not giving him what he wanted. He had to stop letting Raito convince him otherwise. It _**was**_ possible. He was not obligated to work the fake job set before him, he was not required to change his residence, and he was not tied to letting Raito suck him dry like a flesh-hungry incubus.

He shuddered, resuming the robotic motions of cleansing that had ceased at some point in the swirl of his thoughts.

These were decisions that only he could make.

The final say was his own, no matter how it looked at times, and no matter how his physiological reactions tried to trip him up and confuse him. He alone was accountable in the end.

It peeved him, and he took issue with the way Raito never seemed held accountable for _anything_ he did. It hardly seemed fair.  
_  
(What would appease you?)  
_  
There was that insistent voice again.  
_  
I don't know._

_(Surely you do. Make a demand.)_

_I've made demands!_

_(Hasn't he honored them?)_

_Not... exactly._

_(Has he dismissed them? Has he shrugged them off or has he done his best to comply?)_

_Whose side are you on?_

_(Yours.)_

_It sure as hell doesn't seem like it._

_(You hold more sway than you think. You just have to realize.)_

_Realize that having voices in my head is not a good sign of mental stability? Thank you for continuing to make that abundantly clear.  
_  
L stepped back under the spray of the water, letting it soak him and trying to clear the aggravating 'conversation' from his head as if it were as insubstantial as the soap that was running off of his body.  
_  
What__** would**__ I ask of him?_

_I wanted him to stay away from Misa, and I think he has actually done so... I still dislike his flirtatious manner, but I do not think he has been involved with her physically since that night we argued about her..._

_I asked him to leave Aiber be and to not kill him, which he seemed wont to do... and I have seen the proof that Aiber is indeed alive and well._

_He has also consented to my wishes that our relationship remain private. Though he always seems one breath away from putting it out into the open..._

_(See?)  
_  
_See, nothing!_He thought with a spat of irritation. 

_How can I know what is going on behind the scenes? He could be allowing secrecy because it would affect his position in the public eye if our relationship was made known. Misa? He indicated that he did not care overmuch for her and Aiber is a perfect excuse to abstain from her and act like he is bowing to my wishes in the process. Aiber as well - Raito seems to benefit more from leaving him alone._ _It might all be about convenience._

L turned off the shower and slid the plain curtain aside.

The bland white tiles were cold under his feet and did nothing more than remind him of the contrast they displayed between Raito's opulent taste his own unattachment to such things. What a contrast it was. This small, unremarkable bathroom with its white cabinets and walls, as opposed to the richly colored, beautiful, expansive room that served as the bathroom in the brunet's house.

Indeed, before Raito, he never would have given such things a second thought. Now? Now this plainness felt tired, old, and claustrophobic.

He suspected this was about more than interior design. It was more like... this was the sort of room that he would never expect someone like Raito to be found in; it did not suit him. The other room would be preferable to L merely because it held the promise that Raito might at some point appear within the confines of its walls.

By the same token, how dim and unappealing might the world feel to him if he knew that the brunet would never appear before him again?

It was a sobering thought. It didn't really make him feel much better than before. Now, in addition to feeling as if his hands were tied, he felt sullen.

What if he made his demands, trying to alleviate one turbulent state of mind, and merely became possessed of another more unforgiving state? Would Raito tire of him if he did not allow the brunet to do as he pleased?

* * *

Raito's eyes were very catlike when L slunk back into the room - his thoughts heavy and his steps dragging as if the weight of them was making the movement a chore.

What was he supposed to do when he was torn between two very different frames of mind about everything?

There was the anger, the feeling of injustice and the bitter taste of giving in to things that put him ill-at-ease, as well as the urge to take action against it... and then there was fear that he might upset some sort of balance - some frail thing that enabled him to be in the position where the brunet who ruled his thoughts would look at him like _that_, as he was looking at L now.

L stopped in the middle of the room, halfway between the door he'd just closed and the conundrum who sat before him with near feline grace. He felt his mouth twist down, a subtle display of emotion on his otherwise blank face. He knew it was blank; it was nearly automatic when he was deep in thought.

Indecision did not sit comfortably with him, and yet it had been his constant companion since meeting Raito. His entire world had been upended in such a short time. His boundaries had been pushed, coaxed, and warped past recognition.

Raito was dissecting him, even now.

The beckoning, upward tilt to his lips did nothing to disguise that.

Again, the room felt wrong somehow, and even for Raito, he was being watched a little more intently than usual. It made L feel edgy and his foot slid back a step unconsciously as he considered his options. Going right back through that door was looking pretty good about now. It promised a much less stressful time in the immediate future. If he left the room, he could neatly avoid the decision on how to deal with Raito until he could achieve some sort of peace on the matter. There was no reason to rush...

As if tied by connecting strings, Raito began to rise as soon as L took that first twitch backwards.

The brunet's face adopted a more conservative, somber expression that temporarily arrested L's movement as he drew closer. "If you are going to leave," he said in a soft, subdued voice that barely carried, "must you do it so hastily that you cannot even be bothered to dress?"

L's hand, which had been resting loosely upon the towel wrapped around his waist, twitched and clenched upon the thick damp cloth as he looked away.

Raito exhaled a faint, tortured breath and turned to the closet. "Very well," he said.

L felt foolish suddenly, and anxious, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Raito had gotten like this before - acting nearly sullen and treading lightly around him as if **he** were something unstable or unreasonable that must be catered to. He heard the soft clink of clothes on hangers being shifted in the closet.

It made him feel _exceedingly_ foolish, and suddenly uncertain as to whether he had acted in some way that had caused Raito to justifiably react to him in this way.

He closed his eyes, unhappy with yet another example of an unexpected turn of events.

_Damn it._

"Here," Raito said quietly from very close to him as the offering of clothing brushed L's bare abdomen. He paused a moment before speaking again. "Lawliet, did I do something that upset you?"

That caressing, concerned voice was too immediate and affecting. That voice which so often breathed life into L's most depraved thoughts, just with whispered words or the brush of that mouth against the skin of his neck, made him tremble even when it only sounded like this.

L shook his head sharply and took the clothes from him, intent on escape. He felt a web descending on him and it was closing in with delicate silken threads.

Fingertips anointed L's damp skin with their fleeting touch trailing down his arm. "I took things too far, didn't I?" Raito murmured while reaction racketed through L, hobbling him.

L's breath hitched silently in his throat as his body thrummed, and confused anger welled to the surface. "You-"

A hand trailed down his hip as Raito bent to his lips, whispering, "I'm sorry," before sealing them softly.

It was one of the most dangerous types of kisses that the brunet was capable of... The kind that tasted of self-doubt, regret and any number of things that collided, stacked up, and eventually caved in the structure of L's mind until all that was left was the twisting in his chest and the way Raito's full lips against his promised to ease that uncertain pain. It was in the way that L's head swam dizzyingly and as Raito's mouth slid against and within his, it was as if he'd poured his very being into the container of L's mind, seeking him in the darkness there with a beckoning hand.

L dimly registered the clothes falling upon his feet.

Shame was with him as his heart pounded against his ribs. It flowed through his limbs as Raito's hands described archaic patterns upon his back with featherlight touches. Chaste, except for when they strayed... flitting over his hips and waist.

_Why can't I keep from wanting this?_ L thought in frustration as his body and face flushed.

He hated how Raito could sense when he really started losing hold of himself; and that was always when the brunet moved in, pulling L closer and making him want nothing more than everything he could possibly get. He hated how somewhere along the way, Raito was able to strip him of his inhibitions as easily as he could strip him of the fabric that covered him.

The towel about his waist slipped and loosened, removed in a slow dance of indecency as he was distracted by everything else.

* * *

_  
'I'll do you a favor, Aiber. I'll let you see Lawliet in a way that you'll never get to see him on your own.'_

_So this is what he meant?_

Aiber cursed Raito to hell and back.

But he could not look away. He was riveted to L's face, L's spidery hands, L's spare body. Nevermind the lean, golden form of Yagami that blocked his view. That hateful boy that stood in his place... His prideful posture, and the way he tilted L's face up to bring their lips together...

But it was truth, what the brunet's foul voice had spoken. He probably would never see L like this on his own. Never see his face flush with desire, or see the lines of his body exposed, pale and fragile.

He hated Yagami.

Hated him in a way that he'd never hated anyone else.

Partly because of the truth he was being made to behold - that L reacted to Yagami in a way that he would never duplicate with _him_... And partly because of the frustration of seeing L like this with someone _else_ and still being unable to not be turned on by it.

Only a really sick and twisted individual would have their enemy watch them make love to someone like this. To keep their partner in the dark and not utter a word about there being an audience.

* * *

The towel lingeringly dropped to the floor.

L hazily thought how he also hated the way that with Raito, he shifted and could become focused so wholly on pleasure, enough to drive back his reservations and overcome his analytical nature. He disliked the lack of inhibitions, self-awareness, and the vacating coherency of his waking mind...

He shivered as fingers twined sinuously into his hair, the wavelike sensation of it causing his eyes to shut. The fingers caught and pulled at his hair like brambles, not painful, but secure in their claim of spiky locks. Lips graced his neck, smoothing up the line of it until his head was tilted back - exposed - to the fullest extent. They roved over his taut flesh, soft and hot, flooding his stomach with a more intense sort of fire.

...Yet he could also take a secret joy in sometimes turning things back on the brunet, of making him lose every ounce of control that was at his command at any other time. It was rare, yes, but he loved that he was gaining power in this way, steadily, and that Raito was caught outright whenever he put his mind to asserting himself. Last night was proof of this, though the odds had been overwhelmingly in Raito's favor.

For instance...

The brunet's hand smoothed down his bare hip, stroking the line of his body. It made both his concentration and the aching in his loins much much worse.

For ins...

He doggedly grasped at the words though they were like were soap bubbles drifting on currents of air: transient, insubstantial, and hard to own.

He shuddered as cool, slender fingers moved between them. How was he supposed to pursue his thoughts when they kept evaporating the moment Raito did _this_ or _that_? His head bowed and rested upon the shoulder in front of him, his mouth slightly open as feeling stole his breath. He stayed there like that, hiding his face against firm flesh as he fought for at least a granule of composure.

It was not long before a very insistent thought pervaded his mind... Raito's warm skin smelled _intoxicating_.

He lifted his head, nuzzling the slope of the brunet's shoulder as he took that heady scent into his lungs. When it paled, he sought it in strength, and was led up the memorizing curve between that shoulder and the graceful column of the brunet's tawny neck. He couldn't help but taste the skin, to roll it under his teeth and feel desire steal through him more forcefully, to egg him on as he sensed the resounding lust in flesh and bone before him. The tensing, the slight shudder that felt like reverberation under his mouth...

Yes.

This was where those thoughts had been going.

This further shifting in him that took him past the completely helpless desire, little by little until he was burning with the need to evoke reaction. To make someone like Raito react to _him_. To touch and be touched. To feel this fiercely and to transcend it... to be able to turn the desire back on the one who'd inflamed it and to make them feel just as helpless and gone. This was the power he'd slowly begun to grasp. He'd started to see signs of it before he'd actually understood. He knew he had the ability, when he put his mind to it, to make the brunet react to him. He already had, many times.

For instance... a well-timed roll of the hips as Raito moved within him, and he could nearly guarantee the shudder that would rock the brunet's body. Or how he could anticipate the passionate noises that would unconsciously fall from the brunet's mouth as he succumbed to a wave of pleasure. Each reaction drove him to wrest more from his unsuspecting partner. Each erotic noise shivered through him and caused him to act even more depraved.

He sought the brunet's mouth, and he did not have to look far, for Raito's mouth crashed softly against his, hot, wet and impatient.

L wondered, as their fevered kisses led them to the bed, what it might be like if the tables were truly turned. He had never contested their positions before... He was fairly certain he would feel this intensely regardless of trivial things like that. But...

...he got a certain thrill from the thought of Raito submitting to him, of the brunet shelving his massive pride and allowing someone else to be in control from start to finish.

As long as Raito was on top, he probably linked that to being in control, no matter if he wasn't in control at all.  
_  
What would he do if I suddenly decide I want to feel him from the inside?_

_Could I change everything as easily as rolling him upon his back and pinning him down like he has done to me? Could I kiss him senseless like he did my first time and take him while he was unaware? Or drive him to such desperation that it suddenly wouldn't matter how we had each other, as long as we did?  
_  
He seriously doubted that.

As compelling as the thought was.

The closest he'd come so far was the night that he'd been sick and the brunet had bestowed upon him the pleasure of coming to completion in the warm embrace of his lover's mouth.

Raito's obstinate insistence that he needed no reciprocation afterwards had seemed so unnatural that L forced the issue. He'd watched the haughty brunet absolutely crumble before him, his hands desperately losing themselves in L's dark wayward hair as pleasure overtook him.

He hadn't minded the hot hard feel of the brunet on his tongue. He'd linked that immediately to the ability to control the other's voice, and to have an unobstructed view of his beautiful face and being able to witness the expressions that flickered across it. The barest micro-expressions of vulnerability were sometimes present among the ones that were sometimes so sexy that he felt them to his toes.

"Lawliet," Raito murmured huskily against his lips then, bringing his thoughts to heel. "What on _earth_ are you thinking about? I can hardly control myself seeing you looking like that." He didn't wait for an answer, but devoured L's mouth wantonly instead. L could feel the proof of that statement hard and ready, pressing into his abdomen.

L slipped his hand between them and wrapped his fingers around Raito's arousal, causing the brunet to break the kiss with a gasp. "Then don't control yourself," L said. "I don't want to wait."

"Jesus, L..." Raito moaned, unable to get out more than the nickname he usually avoided using, as L's hand moved upon him. His breathing became more ragged and he buried his face against L's neck as his body began to give off intermittent tremors.

L felt a groan get dragged from the back of his own throat as Raito's questing hand found his aching flesh, more insistent and commanding now than before. Long fingers and a smooth, firm palm handled him so expertly he thought he was going to die. The kneading, gliding pressure and dampening skin of Raito's closed hand was more than he could take. It was too much like what he imagined being inside the other's body would be like. His hips moved against the pressure of that glorious hand while he held Raito in his own. Raito's mouth adorned his neck with rough kisses and sharp bites, intensifying his reaction and making him relinquish the precious control he'd gained.

"You know... that you're mine," Raito panted in his ear as the pinnacle of pleasure loomed up before them, voice as much like velveteen steel as the flesh in L's hand, "don't you... Lawliet."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement of possession that shattered the last shreds of control that L had had left.

He shuddered violently and pulled Raito's mouth hastily to his, muffling the cry that threatened to loose itself from the center of his being as the aching in his groin spiked. He was flooded with such intense pleasure then that he completely lost his bearings. Everything outside of that euphoric feeling, the dizzying pleasure, was hazy. Grey. He felt the brunet jerk against him, his sleek body tightening fast like a coil. The weight of him, the strength of his tensing muscles as he was gripped in ecstasy... it was emblazoned on L's awestruck mind in that moment and would forever be stamped there. Raito was spilling himself in L's hand as orgasm bowed his body and streamed a low moan into the secrecy of their joined mouths and sinfully twining tongues.

Their sweat-glistening bodies heaved as if they'd just run for miles, full tilt, and L could feel the brunet's heart pounding heavily against his own. L had the hazy, passing thought that it wasn't even 8 a.m. yet.

* * *

TBC

A/N: (Dude. Raito is SO a nympho. My god. LOL)

Aiber- ...would be beating his head repeatedly into a wall after all of this if only he wasn't afraid of being found out. (Weeps)


	21. Date

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 21

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

* * *

**A/N:** Sigh.

Well guys, hope you enjoy the extraaa long chapter. I skipped my all day Saturday class to write it. :/

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 21: (Date)

Raito's hazy thought afterwards was that he almost regretted what he'd done because he'd given Aiber more of a show than he'd meant to.

Well, perhaps not 'regret' exactly, he mused languidly as the aftershocks continued to ripple softly through him in a way that was infinitely pleasing. But where he'd begun this according to a very precise plan, he actually had not intended to go _this_ far in front of his enemy. Somewhere along the way, he stopped thinking about Aiber and his goal to make the blond man very aware of how Lawliet would never be his, and had just been thinking about Lawliet.

Maybe he was losing his touch.

He never used to lose himself in the moment like this.

Of course, that was all before he met the dark-haired eccentric. The detective had kind of crashed into his carefully constructed world, made a lovely mess of his personal and business life, and he'd still not adjusted to all of the ramifications. Be that as it may, his greatest concern was keeping the elusive Lawliet from crashing back out again.

Lawliet had become integral to everything. He hadn't even realized it yet. Raito could tell by the way he failed to go for the throat when the opportunity cleanly presented itself. He was more likely to pull away and look sulky or cagey.

* * *

Much later, and many things were settled.

A simple, informative text from Raito had provided the impetus to relocate Aiber while Raito distracted Lawliet by more innocent means than usual.  
_  
'Please remove my replacement from the detective's home if you do not wish for a scandal. -R'_

Raito felt mildly irritated at the inability to fix things himself or to _his_ satisfaction, but...

It was nice to know that the issue would be dealt with and brushed under the rug without his immediate direction, plotting and planning. This probably would be a source of great irritation to the Chairman, but Raito figured it was about time he was made to sweat over something. Besides, his focus would be keeping Aiber's image clean and hiding the blond man's obsession from his darling daughter's eyes. He really didn't have the time to be punishing Raito for insubordination - Raito was merely informing him of a 'situation'. It was the Chairman's decision how he would deal with it.

Raito figured the modus operandi would be to remove Aiber from the premises first and ask questions later. It wouldn't do for Aiber to be caught in his massive stupidity.

* * *

L suspected something was afoot.

Raito was being rather accommodating and generous, for him. Not that L could question him on it and get any sort of satisfactory answer...

When the brunet decided to play mum, he really played his hand well.

L slanted a glance at him, driving the car as if he didn't have a care in the world. But it was a lie. Surely it was. For there was some vague tension about Raito's eyes that did not fit.

L wasn't quite sure what to do about it, but it made him feel as if action were necessary. Something had been off, even before now. The brunet had seemed fixated on leaving the house, even at this relatively early hour.

_What is he hiding? He's acting strange, even for him...  
_  
"So. Lawliet. Have you given any thought to my proposal?"

L felt his face shift into an unfamiliar configuration. "Living with you?"

"Yes."

"I have given it thought."

Raito's sharp eyes jagged his way. "And?"

L felt the focus of those eyes like a blade in his chest, as much as he felt his pulse quicken in frustration. "Why are you so insistent on this? We barely even know each other."

"No?" Raito said cuttingly. "You still say that even now? When I know _every_ sound your voice is capable of?"

"That isn't the whole of a person and you know it," L ground out, trying to keep the shame that burbled up from affecting him. "It's only been a handful of weeks. How could that possibly be enough time to know someone? It's impossible."

L felt the car slow down, and cursed his luck that they'd reached a stoplight just now.

"Look at me and tell me I don't _know_ you."

"It's pointless to argue with you."

"_Lawliet._" The brunet's voice was like a low growl in this throat.

L heaved a sigh and, with resignation, looked over to meet his companion's heavy gaze.

Ruddy amber. Arresting. Penetrating.

Staring back into those eyes was like staring into a pair of headlights as they raced faster towards him. Or perhaps an oncoming train. There was something that stilled movement. That caged the limbs and shortened the breath.

And somewhere amidst the compelling color of those eyes and the drowning black of their centers...there was a resonance. There was a recognition. A similarity that was beyond exteriors, morals and values... There was a likeness and compatibility that could not be explained.

There was a... belonging. As incongruous as it seemed.

L sighed again and turned away. "What do you want me to say?" His heart was beating sickly in his chest. Racing, oddly. He was afraid of the chokehold that the brunet seemed intent on placing upon him... but at the same time, it made him feel strange, compelled, and frozen.

"I want you to stop fighting for the sake of fighting. Tell me what issue you could possibly have with it."

"I've already told you, and you don't seem to find my reasoning to be valid. Where are you going?"

"If you aren't going to be cooperative, why should I be?"

L had a feeling that Raito was about to go into one of his scary moods. They seemed unpredictable at best. He bit the inside of his mouth to keep his expression blank and unassuming. The scenery whizzed by the window, faster than it should have been. They had been en route to a pachinko parlor. The location had been somewhat baffling, but Raito swore that this particular lounge had other games available as well such as Chess and Go, not to mention a very popular café.

L thrice damned himself at being lured by the promise of decadent sweets, exquisite coffees, exotic teas, and a chance to interact with the brunet in a fashion that allowed them to both remain fully clothed.

L decided to vary his tactics a little. "So now that something is not going your way, you are once again going to throw a fit about it?"

The words fell like cinders, and the tension in the car ratcheted up exponentially.

L chewed the inside of his lip doggedly, staring ahead without blinking. He'd never before hesitated to speak his mind with someone so much as he did with Raito. What was the difference in doing so with him versus with other people?

Raito began, quietly, to laugh. It sounded like genuine laughter, burbling up, but it _felt_ wrong.

"It's devastating, your low opinion of me, Lawliet." Raito sounded amused, but something was off.

"It isn't a low opinion..." L began warily.

"Then what the hell is it?" Raito snapped back, all humor forsaken. "What is it about me that you find so intolerable? Surely there is something. Multiple somethings?" He laughed again, a sharp sound that whisked the warmth from the air.

"You're unreasonable." L spoke quietly, crossing his arms and looking out the window. He could see his own pale reflection, the stillness of the trees as the car remained stopped. "You can't stand not being in control and you do your best to choke me with those restraints."

He felt cold.

Very cold.

"So is that all I am to you? Shackles and pleasure?"

_What an odd thing to say. _"You-"

"You're more than that to me." Amber eyes were dull, distant. "So was it too much to think it might be the same for you? Was it so outlandish that I thought perhaps we'd stay in the same place officially, as we'd been doing so frequently anyway?"

"It has to be my choice as well. And I have to consider my work..."

"Let me ask you another way, Lawliet." The car eased into motion as the light turned, quickly gaining speed. "What do you see on the horizon tomorrow, next week, next year? Where do you suppose you'll be? Or I'll be?"

L thought about that. Longer than he needed to, really. "I know that I will be working cases."

"And?"

"I'm not entirely sure where you will be. Your ambition baffles me, your methods make me question what morals _are_, and frankly, I don't know why you would want to complicate things by having someone living with you."

"Then you are a fool."

It was said so quietly, L almost couldn't make out the words.

"Do you remember, Lawliet? Where you were just a few short weeks ago? Do you remember where you were at the precise moment my world crossed yours? I with a blonde bombshell on my arm, and you with your punishing ritualistic whiskey and strange way of sitting?"

L nodded, his eyes fixed forward. He could see the dingy bar, the seemingly fleeting importance of the brunet of the flashy smile asking to borrow his pen. His world had seemed so small then. So claustrophobic, and so comfortingly simple. There was a pang in his chest when he thought of that fortuitous meeting. It was utter chance that someone like Raito had paid him any mind, had bothered to speak to him, had interacted with him in that questionably enticing manner, had looked at him with those drowning pool eyes or kissed him with those soft, wicked lips...

Raito had somehow woven himself inextricably into the fabric of L's life. L bit his lip hard, trying to dispel the feelings that flooded him, a reliving of everything, every nuance, every upset, every bittersweet and undeniable moment that the brunet had made him_feel_.

"So many times..." L said beneath his breath. "You've mocked me for my inexperience, and yet you treat me as if I've had eons to consider such things. You should know by now that there wasn't really anyone before you. It should be painfully obvious, in fact. And yet you think that enough time has passed that I should be able to say that I _know_ you? Is a few weeks really enough? And what is 'enough' based on? That we are compatible physically? If that is all then I guess I could agree, but I am not used to tying myself to anyone, and the notion seems foolish at best. What do I know about who you are? All I can say is that I have put up with a lot and I don't know yet what that ultimately means."

* * *

_'Put up with a lot'_... Is that what it all boils down to? The bones and marrow of it? That first and foremost, Lawliet felt that he was _enduring_?

Raito struggled not to let loose his immediate reaction to that, thought he felt turmoil and anger brimming to the tip of his tongue. Why was being honest and open so very cumbersome? He felt it sharply, like pulling teeth, every time he attempted it. And he wouldn't have _bothered_ with it only he did so out of some misguided perception that it would somehow aid him in his pursuit of the dark-haired man and might make this continually shifting sand beneath their feet slightly more stable.

But why? Why would he even think that, or be moved to try tactics that were untested when he had a plethora of those that were tried and true? He could wrap nearly anyone around his finger with minimal effort. Expertly. Easily. But with Lawliet, it was like he had to start all over again. None of his tricks worked to his satisfaction. He was shooting in the dark and he was _missing_!

It was pissing him off beyond measure and he found himself wanting to get even. To drag the other man through the mud a little. Maybe a lot. To tear him down and rip out his moorings until he could fucking appreciate what Raito was trying to do.

He realized that this mode of thinking could be termed 'irrational'. Thus it stood to reason that he was not thinking irrationally if he was able to see such a thing for what it was. But that did not temper the scathing heat of his thoughts and the rejection he suffered all too often at the hands of his quarry.

Raito's breaths were abbreviated, inaudible but harsh, and his pulse was beating in his ears. His fingers twitched with inaction.

He was in a mood to threaten, intimidate... to do something to throw the dark-haired man off of his throne and into the abyss of uncertainty. He was so very angry. And not even his recent victory with Aiber was staving it off. In fact, if he thought overmuch on that, he would rather rewrite the scene - to make the detective suffer further unknown shame - to have taken that slim body fully while the foreigner was privy to it. Instead, some part of him had had some reserve, something that held him in check from taking things that far. He'd protected his partner from such excessive behavior. Though now he wished cruelly that he hadn't, that he could revel in recounting the scene to his unsuspecting companion.

"You're angry again," his passenger said. The tone was empty, inflectionless, though Raito felt dark eyes rest upon him with a bare pressure.

"How astute of you," he responded in a clipped voice. Anything might have been behind the detective's poker face or blank voice. He might have been feeling contrite, or flippant. Anything at all. But for whatever reason, he was choosing to hide and issue more of those words composed to set him off. Throw a fit, indeed. "I don't suppose you feel in any way responsible?" he prompted sharply.

His eyes cut to the side and his companion was facing the window, not deigning to look at him.

Raito's grip on the steering wheel tightened. Had it all been in his head? That what they had between them was something unique? Something to hold onto at all costs? He didn't like that the other man was able to act so unaffected at times. He hated being locked out of what he was thinking, and being left to speculate upon what was going on inside his head.

Lawliet remained silent. Out of spite, or from lack of having a decent response, it was uncertain.

* * *

Inside his head, L was panicking.

Not the sort of panic that made one mentally unstable, but the kind that tremored down one's limbs and into the fingertips. The kind that made one's thoughts race in circles.  
_  
My new tactic sucks._

Thus far, all it had done was inspire Raito's rancor. He thought that instead of yielding to the brunet at every turn, he should perhaps voice his thoughts more directly, even if it did seem somewhat instigatory of him to do so.

No matter how true what he said had been, it seemed as if Raito was taking everything in the worst possible way. And it was not just the anger that affected L so sharply, but the other emotion he felt sure was banked within those smoldering eyes. Hurt. Or something like it. Not that it hadn't already crept into the brunet's voice and words before, but it was broadcasting in the silence.

The connection between them felt severed and lifeblood was pumping from the wound.

L decided it was best to refrain from speaking for fear of making things worse. It certainly hadn't gone well, even tentatively inquiring as to whether his companion was now incensed. Which, obviously, he was; and it was more than obvious _now_ was that he was not in a mood to be civil or try to talk things out.

L could only imagine what it would be like to live in a house with someone like this. Where would he retreat to in such a small place when he felt it best to make himself scarce?

Where indeed.

"Perhaps you are right," Raito said then, his considering tone putting L further on edge.

"About what exactly?" L asked cautiously. He knew better than to be truly hopeful yet. This might just be one of the brunet's turnabouts.

"Why would I shackle myself with someone like _you_," he said scathingly, "when privacy is a much more valuable commodity?"

L felt his stomach twist like sickness and a lump lodge harshly in his throat. _Someone like you?_ Even if Raito was merely being antagonistic, did he need to go so far as to say something like that?

L reached for the anger he was sure would follow such a statement, but his hands came up empty. His mouth was dry and he could find no words with which to respond. _Did he have to say words that rang with such finality? As if he had finally reached the last straw and was washing his hands of the affair? _His hands were shaking so he fisted them into his pants, hiding them and the physiological reaction he had no control over. He could only guess at what Raito was inferring with his mention of privacy, but he didn't like it.

"After all," the other man continued in a cavalier tone, "catering to you has been nothing but a hindrance in my work. For instance, I can hardly _entertain_ as I used to."

There was a long pause in which L did not speak, but actively fought with himself for control. He hadn't imagined there was anything a person could say that would make him feel like this. The barbed words stung, as they were supposed to, but the effect went much deeper, setting off a chain reaction which L could not even anticipate the true measure of. It shocked him that he was reacting so viscerally, and that he could not tell whether he was inordinately angry or stricken.

_I see._

L meant the words to be spoken aloud, but they did not move past his lips.

By entertaining, Raito had to mean the sort of thing he used to do - advancing his career... bodily. Misa, and that awful woman he had met at Raito's place of work... and how many others might have known the brunet in an intimate fashion? How many people had that with him - what L had had and been convinced was special? Meaningful? Life-altering.

Flashes of times he'd spent with Raito, images of smiles or the bickering that really wasn't anything but amiable, things like that were cropping up before his eyes, tokens of times that were now slipping through his fingers. The loss...

The impending loss was excruciating.

"Take me back," L said quietly, in a voice that sounded calm and reasonable, just the opposite of how the maelstrom inside of him was brewing.

It did not matter to him that they had only just left. That was inconsequential. He was going to lose hold of himself and he did not want to be around anyone when it happened, least of all Raito.

"I can't do that," the brunet said just as calmly, his unaffected manner breathing ice inside of L's chest.

_Can't? Or won't? _L sensed that if he chose to argue, he would merely be met with obstinate resistance. It would change nothing. So he would wait. When the car stopped, he would simply get out and walk home.

Until then, the ride promised to be intolerable.

For the next 20 minutes, the air inside the car was stifling and unbroken by anything save for the rumble of road noise. L stared fixedly out the window, learning self-control in new ways. He went through emotions in waves, each prompting him to break the silence with different scripts, but he kept his mouth firmly shut. Nothing he said would fix the situation, so there was nothing worth uttering. All he could expect was a more acidic fight, and worse words to digest than the ones he'd already taken in. He would not feel better voicing the anger he felt, nor anything else, not after the way the brunet had responded, likely shredding him to the best of his ability.

And he felt stupid, _stupid_, for voicing any of the sentiments he'd felt. And doubly so for being honest about his reservations about sharing a living space or anything else. It was as if each time he was honest, a shotgun blew up in his face. Oh yes, gun-shy was an apt description.

L hated feeling like this.

Hated it.

So much so that when he realized that Raito was heading for the highway, likely anticipating his plan to let himself out of the car, he was beside himself with frustration. He reached for his cell, knowing how much Raito might get bent out of shape over its appearance, and even hoping for it. He was reaching a breaking point and it was sharpening his thoughts and making him antagonistic. He wanted to inflict some damage back, if only to grant himself a reprieve.

He called no one.

It would be much more infuriating for the brunet to try to figure out what he was doing, pressing keys, while he was trying to drive.

He checked his email first, composing messages for work which would require a lot of typing, knowing that Raito's controlling nature would be snapping with each soft button click.

The brunet held his piece amazingly well, saying nothing for nearly 10 minutes of flurried clicking. L did not look at his face, but judging by the tightening atmosphere, he was having trouble keeping silent. While this went on, L was deciding who would be best to send a direct message to that could get him out of his current containment.

Watari... seemed a mixed bag. Like a pillar of 'I-told-you-so', his involvement promised its own sort of torture. But who else was there?

Well... if he really wanted to cause a stir... he could message _him_.

But should he? He most certainly would gain an immediate response. Especially given the history of recent events...

Was he really feeling that vindictive? Aiber would be the one to which Raito might react the strongest, but L had issues with Aiber as well. He had not forgotten the incident at the train station, the attempted blackmail of Raito, or the constant harassment the blond man had subjected him to. The blackmail was the worst - recalling how very close it had been that Raito might have been imprisoned if Aiber had gone through with everything...

L pushed that from his mind, not liking the memory of his reaction to that - how broken he'd felt when he realized he might be on the brink of losing Raito completely, or even what he'd gone through in order to protect him. There was even the distilled despair when he was told by the brunet that his suffering had been foolish, unnecessary, and had better not be repeated.

"What are you doing?" Raito finally asked, a tension ghosting in his voice that was definitely unintentional.

"Nothing," L replied shortly, not wanting to engage in conversation.

"You've been doing nothing with your thumbs in a noisy fashion for some time now." Raito sounded irked.

"I'm sorry, did I say 'nothing'?" L said, feeling overly irked himself. "I meant: 'It's none of your business'."

He could almost hear the grinding of teeth at that.

It served him right. _How did he expect to all but dump me on my ass and expect that he could still reach over and control my actions, or my life? If he's absolving himself of everything, then I sure as hell am not going to lie down and make that easy for him._

It was easier to be angry than hurt. It really was.

It was best to focus on that and block everything else out so he could breathe.

If he didn't, his mind began racing as he contemplated the revolving door of Raito's home, the sultry smiles that could melt a person where they stood, and all the potential partners the brunet might be courting in the near future. It twisted his insides up so bad he was sure he was going to be sick and his head began to swim. The shaking started to take hold of his hands again.

Oh, the anger was so elusive. He clawed at it frantically, it being the only stability he could hope for.

Frankly, he felt like his chest was being crushed. So many scenes: Raito's enigmatic gaze locked to his, smiles playing about his lips, Raito teasing him mercilessly for his lack of people skills that day L accompanied him to work, being held close and finally believing he was necessary to the brunet... and so many others, so many words exchanged, all of them streamed through his conscious mind, making it seem so impossible that things had gone awry like this. There were so many things he'd endured, having identified Raito as something that he had somehow needed in his life.

* * *

If human hands had more strength in them, then Raito would have been successful in crushing the steering wheel by now with the punishing grip he kept upon it.

He wanted to wring the detective's neck.

How did he justify being spiteful and telling _him_ that anything was _'none of his business'_?

He _**hated**_ it when the other man said things like that. As if Raito were of no more consequence than the weather.

Lawliet did not show a flicker of jealousy when Raito suggested the alternative to the insomniac moving in with him could be a return to how things used to be. None. And previously the idea of Raito being with other people had really seemed to get under his skin. Here Raito had thought his dark-haired passenger might have just been missing the fact that if he were to live with Raito, he could be assured that Raito would not be bringing anyone else home. Wasn't that what he'd have wanted? More stability?

"Does this mean you rescind your rule about Misa?" he asked sharply.

Was Lawliet giving up on it all? Was jealousy merely the first to go?

For what had he gone through all of those maneuverings with Aiber and all the rest? What did it all amount to if Lawliet was being like _this_? If he no longer seemed to care as Raito thought he had?

"Do whatever you want," came the quiet answer. "You always do anyway."

* * *

It was with some surprise that L found himself waking up to the sound of the car stopping. He didn't recall falling asleep or even feeling tired. He felt a bit groggy as well as he lifted his head from where it had been propped against the window.

The automatic locks disengaged with an audible thunk. "Get out," Raito said stonily.

L felt a trickle of misgiving, but pushed his car door open as he was bidden. He looked around behind them and saw mostly open road as he patted his pockets for his phone. Had he dropped it on the floor as he slept? It did not seem to be in his possession.

The sound of a car door slamming shut startled him.

It was just Raito, coming around from the driver's side, face expressionless and intimidating. L also noticed that there was a building at which they were parked but there was no visible sign. Its walls were of rough hewn wood, seeming incongruously like a wood cabin.

"Raito, where-?" he began to ask, forgetting that he had decided not to engage in conversation.

Raito came up behind him, catching and twisting his arm behind him and pushing him forward roughly.

He was steered through a glass door, opening it at the brunet's nonverbal request, and came face to face with a bored looking young man with lank hair and a mouthful of chewing tobacco. He looked up from the desk he was manning. "Yeah?" he inquired in an appropriately bored, lackluster tone.

Raito tossed some bills on the countertop.

The young man looked at the bills with slight interest. "Change?"

"Not necessary," Raito responded.

The young man almost affected a smile, and coasted his chair backwards so he could select a tagged key from a wall of hooks. He slid it across the counter with a metallic scrape and said, "This one's real quiet."

L looked between the clerk and the brunet, not liking the tone of things one bit. Only he could not quite turn his head far enough to see the brunet with how the other man was standing nearly behind him.

"Raito," L said once they were outside again, "what are you doing?"

"None of your business," the brunet said darkly.

"Well it appears as if it **is** my business, seeing as how I'm involved," he protested. He tried digging his heels in to the dirt to slow their progress towards what had to be some sort of motel room in the middle of freaking nowhere.

"That definition did not seem to trouble you before," the brunet said caustically.

Oh yes, judging by the degenerating civility, this was not a Raito that L wished to be trapped in a small room with. And that unease was steadily increasing.

"It is my business what I do with _my_ phone," he maintained, his feet scraping across the ground as Raito half dragged him across the packed dirt parking lot.

"In front of me," Raito growled, staring straight ahead towards his goal. "Therefore _making_ it my concern. Stop splitting hairs only when it is convenient for you."

Room 14B loomed ahead like some nightmare monstrosity. It was the room on the very end of the building and no cars were parked nearby.

"Stop dragging me!" L finally snapped, trying to wrest his left arm out of the brunet's mechanical grip. Aside from their fight, he really did not want to be forced into some foreign rented room in the middle of nowhere with the oft unstable brunet. It just did not seem to bode well.

Not only was L unsuccessful, Raito grabbed his other arm and now had the two within his iron grasp. His wrists were grinding together slightly.

L cursed under his breath. He was feeling seriously unsettled now. What excuse could the brunet possibly have for stopping here? Or for manhandling him like this? "Where is my cell phone?" he asked, suspicious now that he had not misplaced it at all.

"You won't be needing it," Raito said curtly.

It occurred to L that even if he were to break free of the brunet's hold, he did not know which direction on that empty road would be the way home. And without a cell phone, he could hardly call someone to pick him up. The only thing he could manage was to perhaps borrow the phone in the office... but the clerk seemed to have been tipped rather handsomely just moments ago and would likely be less than helpful to him as opposed to the brunet.

Raito unlocked the door with his free hand, having little trouble doing so while he kept hold of L's more slender wrists.

Not for the first time, L damned genetics for making him smaller and weaker than the men he seemed to keep having trouble with in situations like these. It was worse with Raito than Aiber in some ways, because Raito himself was also slender and did not appear as if he would have an unfair advantage, but he did. Where L's shoulders were thin and tended to bow in with terrible posture, Raito's shoulders (not to mention his chest and back) were well-developed and solid. When it came to pure strength, there was no contest. L's wiry strength came from motion, from being able to pivot, dodge, or issue blows with his more powerful legs.

So it was hardly surprising that Raito was easily able to lock the door behind him, and force L face down onto the bed. His arms were kept pinned as Raito straddled him.

His legs, of course, were not possessed of enough freedom to be useful. What was surprising was the feel of something snapping around his wrist and the _clink clink clink_ as it did so. He struggled as Raito pulled his hands up over his head and he heard the sound again, feeling something hard circling his other wrist.

His stomach dropped.

"Wha-?" he said in a startled voice as Raito's weight left him and he found he could not lower his hands.

He was able to roll onto his back, however, and did so before looking up at his entrapped hands. Unease rippled through him heavily, gripping his lungs.

"Novelty cuffs," Raito informed him airily (though they felt real enough), saying it as if that were perfectly normal. As if he were answering a more mundane question such as, 'what is the color of the car you drive?'. "You aren't the first to wear them," he added in a suggestive yet patronizing tone as his hawk-like eyes held L's.

L bit the inside of his lip hard, struggling not to react to that statement. His chest felt like a cage of glass being crunched beneath someone's boot - he could nearly hear the sound of it. His breathing accelerated shallowly with the effort.

He lied to himself, denying the prickling burn in his eyes. He could ignore it, if only he blanked his mind and did _not_ imagine who those other people might have been, or the things that they and the brunet might have done together.

To say it was difficult was an understatement.

It was obvious that Raito was watching and waiting for a reaction, his face looking cruel and composed. L didn't want to give him the satisfaction. He had no idea what had really sparked off this odd behavior but he did not want to feed into it.

Given the other things the brunet had done or threatened to do, it was actually quite alarming - the current situation. This was not a well-peopled area, Raito was an unpredictable force at best, and he was currently handcuffed and unable to do anything about it.

It was a little hard to remain optimistic.

He supposed it could be worse, though at the moment, he was already having trouble dealing, so it was hard to imagine _how_.

* * *

Raito stared down at his captive, and his captive stared back at him with an unreadable expression. He felt only marginally better because of this. Fear, upset, something of the like might have assuaged this mood of his, this restless anger, but this he was denied. So he had Lawliet where he wanted him, but not yet _how_ he wanted him.

This could be easily rectified.

"I'll be back," he said curtly, turning for the door.

"Wait - where are you going?" the detective asked, some subtle dissonance coloring his voice. The handcuffs rattled as he tried to sit up.

Raito regarded him coldly, mollified to see a flicker of reaction in those dark eyes. He then took out his pack of cigarettes and tapped one out of the package. Putting it up to his lips, he repeated, "I'll be back."

There was no reason to put a time to it, he thought as he went back through the door. For while he did feel the need to blacken his lungs, there was another thing or two he might be about in the meantime. And it wouldn't hurt to have Lawliet be left in the dark for an unprescribed amount of time.

* * *

Raito returned some time later. During his absence, L had strengthened his resolve to _not_ be upset and to be as uncooperative as possible.

L's resolve did waver somewhat in light of the brunet's return, however, as seeing his face made the feelings much more immediate.

Raito calmly sat down upon the bed, his motions coiled as if to warn L not to even attempt lashing out in spite, and said simply, "Comfortable?"

Though it was inordinately difficult to imagine striking Raito at all (in truth it would be a useless thing to do seeing as he would remain chained to the headboard) he still felt the urge to do it as soon as the brunet spoke.

His only revenge would be in not answering. Above all, the man before him hated being ignored.

L shoved down the stream of panicked gibbering that the small voice in the back of his head was still letting out in response to being bound. Being restrained really rubbed against one's nerves if one was used to being in control of every aspect and nuance of their surroundings each day.

_(What if you are left like this?)_the voice was saying. _(Or what if something happens to Raito and you cannot get free - who would think to look for you here? You'll die of starvation! ...though dehydration would come first...)_

_(Or what if he decides to do something awful to you? How would you evade anything in this state?)_

L really had not specifically revisited his passing fear that Raito was a violent sociopath, aside from that moment last night, but the urge to do so was now not a small one. Was this not how many people had died at the hands of mentally unstable people? Killed by someone they knew, in a remote area, no one missing them right away...

"I would rather you answer me without any convincing on my part," Raito said in an inflectionless voice. "But I am prepared to do so if necessary."

L frowned at him - the only concession he gave to reacting.

He did not know what the brunet had in mind, though he _had_ been fairly certain the brunet would not bring harm to him. That was curious though, seeing as Raito's behavior in other situations had been known to become violent or rough. He'd held him and Aiber at gunpoint previously, without batting an eye. He'd also subjected them to horrible, terrifying treatment over the following hours. Seemingly without remorse. Who was L to guess how far Raito would or wouldn't go?

"Who were you communicating with on your phone earlier?" Raito fixed him with a sharp gaze, warning him that cooperation would really be much more pleasant.

L debated his answer.

Raito drifted closer, like a menacing phantom.

"It is my own concern, Yagami-kun," he stated before Raito took his silence to be a willful one. He'd decided to hold his ground. To do otherwise was to give the other man the upper hand. This way, there might still be a chance that Raito would see he was acting unreasonably. It was all about the illusion of control and who possessed it. Raito had caved to him before. It was not impossible. He just had to put his foot down. "Whether it is personal, or for work, it is for me to decide what I might wish to disclose to you."

"Is it now? Even in your current position?" Raito asked snidely.

"And what position is this, exactly?" L questioned him with a carefully inflectionless voice. He didn't expect a satisfactorily informative response, but even a hint as to what the brunet might be thinking would be helpful.

Raito said nothing, but reached down to the floor to rummage in what sounded like a plastic bag. L had noticed him carrying something in. When he straightened, he placed a bottle on the nightstand next to the bed with a resounding _clunk_.

It was a bottle of clear, amber-brown liquid. Likely alcohol.

L met Raito's gaze for a long moment, frowning and showing his displeasure at the prospect before them. It was a willful glare. The same sort Raito was currently leveling back at him.  
_  
If you think getting me drunk is going to help you force me to talk..._

"I'll ask you again," Raito said almost reasonably. "Who?" He was turning something in his hands idly as he waited for a response.

L sighed in annoyance. "I maintain that it is none of your concern and that will remain the case, no matter how many times you ask me."

Raito's expression changed minutely, but he was rather calm about pouring the amber fluid into the cheap shot glass in his hand.

L was quite confused then, when Raito did not force the drink on him but rather, tipped it to his own lips.

"No matter how many times?" the brunet asked in a falsely amiable tone, as if verifying something quite unimportant.

L felt reluctant to say anything. Slowly though, he nodded.

Raito poured another shot. His hands were unhurried and graceful. "Even if I am willing to answer your questions in exchange?"

He drank that one, too, while L considered.

Actually, seeing Raito drink in this situation made him more nervous for some reason than being forced to drink would have made him. "All right," he gave a token concession. "It was communications for work."

Raito smiled slightly and poured a third. "I do hope you aren't thinking such a half-assed answer would be good enough."

L cringed a little as Raito consumed his third fill of the glass, then a fourth, tipping them back carelessly, as if to say it was a punishment for his insubstantial answer. L realized quite suddenly that he had never seen the brunet inebriated. As such, he was fast coming to a point where he would not be able to know what to expect. Some people were amiable when drunk, some angry, sad or unstable. There was no way to know how it would be with Raito except that one could expect a lowering of his inhibitions.

"I was emailing 2 of my clients about their cases." He decided to offer some extra information, just to see if placating the brunet would still his hands. "I had not had the chance previously, so I did it when the thought occurred."

"Oh?" Raito said softly, turning a heavy gaze upon him. His eyes had a dangerous sort of heat in them. "And of all times, why do you suppose the thought struck you _just_ then?"

"I don't know," L tried to lie convincingly. He was unable to hold that gaze, however. They diverted to study the bed's comforter almost instinctively, possibly ruining his act.

The soft clink of glass upon glass made him jump a little.

_Damn_.

He did not need to look to know that another shot of alcohol had been poured and would soon be consumed. His body tensed and he started to feel the undercurrents of frantic frustration that he was already losing ground.

"Oh, I don't know," Raito said placatingly, his voice sounding oh-so-smooth, "I think you _do_."

L chewed the inside corner of his lip furtively. He sensed now where this might be headed and the interrogation that might come about. Raito was trying to corner him into admitting he had been purposely trying to instigate him. He'd wanted to get a reaction and gain some equal footing in the basis of their fight, but he did not want to admit anything of the sort. However, he was not seeing a way to keep secrets while also stilling the dropping waterline of the alcohol bottle. "You obviously have some ideas about it. Why don't you tell me what you perceived?"

Raito gave a throaty chuckle. It was a rich, warm sound that spread insidiously through L's belly yet jangled his nerves like static.

"I think you are more than aware of how much I dislike certain behaviors of yours," Raito said languidly, eyeing him. "The more pertinent question is, for what reason were you trying to irk me on purpose?"

L revisited the moment he'd decided to compose those messages and the frustration/hurt jumped to the surface. The jealousy and helpless anger... His futile attempt to pay the brunet back in some way, immature though it was to do it the way he had...

Raito's current behavior was making him feel all the more irrational with how very laid back the brunet was acting. Oh, and it _**was**_ an act. He was sure of it. Beneath the unflappable exterior, that tenseness and that _waiting_... they were still there.

L couldn't look at him. He stared fixedly at the dingy wall ahead of him instead. He'd already regretted openly voicing his feelings and motivations. They'd only been smacked down or thrown in his face. Did Raito really expect him to do so again? To say how much his words had hurt or how upsetting it was to hear him speak of being with other people again? That would be _foolish_.

"I'm waiting."

"I have nothing to say to you." L spoke quietly, not quite masking the clenching of his teeth. He held on to his anger, steeling himself with it. That was the only way to win this game, wasn't it? To not give in? To show no weakness that might be exploited?

A new sound voiced itself in the periphery. A rather solid, metallic click.

L's eyes whipped back to the brunet.

Raito was glancing down at his hands consideringly, while lightly resting his thumb against the blade of a large pocketknife as if to test its sharpness.

The effect that had on L was sudden and sharp. Fear crystallized in him and made him desperate to sit up. Especially when those eyes finally slid to him.

A knife. Such a tiny little detail, but one that put Raito firmly in control again, without question.

L swallowed.

Fear must have flashed upon his face, because the brunet smiled in response to _something_.  
_  
((Don't react! He's only trying to throw his weight around.))_

Maybe the tiny voice in his head that was offering up advice was correct. On the other hand, it wasn't the one directly in the line of fire, and **not** reacting to a very large blade seemed outside of L's skill set.

Raito leaned forward, never breaking eye contact as he ghosted a kiss across L's trembling lips. The brunet looked engaged and subtly pleased about something, though L was not sure what. He was preoccupied with the knife that he could no longer see, and the biting of the metal cuffs into his wrists as he pulled against them futilely.

"Are you feeling ready to offer your real answers now?" the brunet whispered softly in his ear.

L was thoroughly disturbed that his voice could still sound so very sensual, even now, like this. It made him feel doubly trapped.

He would prefer not to speak, lest some nuance give him away, but it did not look as if he was being given a choice. "I was angry," he managed to get out.

Raito _tsked_ under his breath. "I warned you about giving half-hearted answers, Lawliet." He pulled away and poured another shot, holding the knife easily and comfortably as he did so. It seemed familiar in his hands.

Further imbibing in alcohol while a weapon was present really gnawed at L's remaining self-possession. His hands twitched compulsively, wanting to snatch the bottle and glass from the other man. How many more missteps could he afford? How many more before Raito was no longer concerned overmuch with consequences?

L wondered if he was placing himself in danger with every act of rebellion or every response that was met with an miscalculated result. He cringed as the liquor slid down Raito's throat. The brunet's eyes were burning brighter now, looking more energized than before. He looked willing and able to address a challenge.

To his horror, Raito immediately poured another shot before pausing to look at him expectantly, small glass poised to his lips. A civilized threat.

"I was-" his hands fisted briefly as he forced the words out, "I was trying to get even, I suppose."

"For what perceived slight?" the brunet asked, lowering the glass.  
_  
A reprieve... A reward for answering the way he wants..._

L shifted, discomfited. "For..." Gah! What was he supposed to say? The truth? But he'd already tried that and all it had served was to piss the other man off. But there was nothing else for him to speak but the truth, right? "For what I've already said..." he began, finding it difficult to go into greater depth. Words were escaping him.

Raito's gaze narrowed, warning him that that response was not going to be good enough.

The knife danced in the brunet's restless hands. L cringed backwards as it moved closer, horrified when he felt the cool blade against his stomach.

It was brief, however, and the blade was turned, poised to threaten only the buttons along the seam of his shirt. He jumped with each one that was severed and popped from the garment, exposing his skin to the air, his nerves fraying.

"Raito, stop! Please!"

L's eyes had squinted closed; he opened them now as movements ceased. Silver glinted before his eyes, the sharp edge of the blade holding the second to last button in a death grip, a breath away from beheading it.

"I'll elaborate," he said in a pale voice. "So, please, just put that down."

"You first," Raito replied.

"I... I'm not sure I understand why you're angry," he began, unable to tell if he was having any success in sounding as harmless and inoffensive as possible. It was probably too much to hope that he didn't sound like he was being held at knifepoint. "I am being truthful when I say that the concept of living with someone is foreign to me. But to have you go the opposite way after I told you this, to discard me so suddenly..."

The words were coming out in a rambling fashion. L was nearly talking to the blade as opposed to its wielder. The words spilled forth as if he could gain distance from it if there were only enough of them. He stopped focusing wholly on what he was actually voicing, the stress of the situation being so distracting. "Am I really that much of an inconvenience to you? But if so, why would you suddenly switch from insistence that I stay with you to abandonment? I don't understand."

"Abandonment?" Raito's voice had settled from the poisonous tones it had held minutes before. Perhaps he was feeling more reasonable?

"Well, what would you call it, then?" L said under his breath. "That you would refrain from being with others, then say how intolerable that has been-"

Oh- there had been some emotion that slipped out there - his voice even caught on the words, embarrassing him.

"So you act spiteful when you are jealous?"

Underneath, L bristled at the words, but Raito was not antagonizing him. He was really asking. His tone was not very combative, either.

"I never said I was jealous," L muttered, pride disallowing him to admit it just now. Not in this situation.

"Honesty, Lawliet," the brunet said, his voice dipping back into unyielding tones. The remaining two buttons on his shirt were popped free, making him flinch each time, the last one striking him in the jaw. Or was that the kiss of metal against his skin?

_((Stop letting him intimidate you))_ the voice in his head berated him as he closed his eyes to try and gather himself.

_But he has a __**knife**_, L stressed again.

Inexplicably, L felt something brush his chest, something warm. Something that made his stomach tighten suddenly in response. Clever and soft...

Lips against skin...

It made no sense, but he knew the feel of that mouth, the heat of it, and the pleasure of an even hotter tongue gracing his chest. He shuddered as reaction took his body, wrongly amplified by his distress and confusion.

"But you are jealous, aren't you?" Raito's voice was a humming against his flesh. Mocking him, but gently. Encouraging, baiting. "Honesty now, Lawliet," he repeated softly.

L could hear the curling smile in the utterance of his name. He could feel the answering thrum tremor through his body.

Hands alighted upon him and his breath was quickening, chasing his heartbeat. He thrashed against the cuffs and his tormentor. "No-"

"You _want_ me to touch you like this - I could feel it in every line of your body the moment I began."

L's eyes flew open and were at once filled with the red-amber of Raito's gaze as his body was caged by that of the other man and lips descended on his. It was no chaste kiss. It shot through him, blazing in his gut and between his legs. He could feel his face flushing as his mouth was overcome with liquid heat and a skilled tongue.

He struggled against it. He was falling prey to this much too fast.

"Does it bother you to think of me doing this with anyone else?" Raito crooned in his ear breathily as his hand brushed down L's waist. "Are you over-possessive because I was your first?" L squirmed, trying to foil the success of the brunet's hand upon the button of his jeans. He was aching and helpless and could not escape the words gracing his ear which tormented him to distraction.

"I'm not- jealous-" he pled as the button gave way and the zipper slid down without resistance.

The cuffs clinked loudly as L jerked at them. His face blazed red in shame as Raito pulled back to slide his clothing down off of his hips.

"Are you also _not aroused_, then?" Raito mocked him, his position very near to the evidence of that arousal. "If we are in the mode of telling untruths, we might as well continue..."

L bit his lips as the brunet subtly tried to humiliate him.

"Not aroused, not jealous... what else?" Raito mused, beginning to touch his burning need with taunting fingers and a fleeting mouth. L couldn't hold onto the noises that began escaping his lips then. "Unaffected by my touch... and would you also be equally unaffected if I were to handle someone else like this? Or in knowing that I have been with people like this?" Raito lavished attention upon his flesh, offering pleasure as he stirred tar-like emotions with his words. L knew he was screwing with his head, but he could no longer think clearly. He was just reacting. Physically, emotionally, and he couldn't _stop_. "Surely it would be of no concern to you, then, that I open my bed to others if that place is not already taken."

To L's mortification, he felt dampness upon his cheek. There was not much time to dwell upon it, however, because Raito's poisonous mouth was pulling him inside and destroying what was left of conscious thought.

His chest was heaving with panted breaths and his entire body felt like it was on fire. Insidious fingertips stroked his hips, teasing, enticing. He waited for the pleasure to build enough to topple him, but it just banked and burned brighter. He was being tormented with the most intimate of trailing caresses. It was just short of enough. That sinuous, sinful tongue was flicking along his skin and it was _purposely_ not enough.

"What- do you want- from me?" L choked out.

"Love me," Raito said, abandoning his task and meeting his gaze.

_What?_ L's mind stuttered to process that.

Raito laughed then, an edge of cruelty to it. "Don't look so stricken, Lawliet. I jest." He slid slowly up L's body until they were face to face, inches apart. His eyes burned in that fever-bright way where L could not tell what he was thinking. "You think I would require that of you?"

He kissed L softly then, further confusing the issue.

_But you have that already, despite me!  
_  
"Would you require that of anyone?" he challenged, his frustration with everything surfacing enough to battle the desire that was obscuring his mind's functions. "Or would feelings be inconvenient?"

"Shhh," Raito hushed him instead of answering him, deviating to explore his throat. "The only thing of inconvenience is that you don't understand the position you are in."

"And which position might that be?"

"Indeed, there are several..." Raito mused distractedly. "But you fail to see where you stand in all of them."

_Then why won't you enlighten me?  
_  
Raito drew back just enough to meet his eyes. "One of the most pertinent, however, is that your willfulness puts you at a disadvantage."

"If that is true of the current situation, then I dare say you like the results more than I."

"I wasn't speaking of this, but if I were, I would say that it is only a sense of duty that compels me to break down your protests until you can no longer deny me."

"Duty?" L thought that was one of the oddest and nonsensical explanations he might have heard the brunet venture.

"Of course," Raito confirmed as if it were obvious, his eyes raking L with their heat. "If I do not keep you in check, who's to say what will happen? Where might your pride and resistance leave us if I gave you free reign?" His voice dipped lower, almost a murmur as he said, "And how would you know to submit, if you are not forced to your knees?"

Raito slid back like the pulling of the tide, kneeling now on the bed.

"I've enjoyed our little chat," he said smokily. His eyes roved L's nearly naked body unabashedly.

His gaze was fondly possessive as he distanced himself.

L busily tried to forget the fact that he was naked except for his gaping shirt. "What now?" The brunet seemed up to something.

Raito reached into his pocket and drew out a shiny red cell phone. "This," he said. "This little device holds such fascination and contempt for me that I just can't seem to want to leave it alone."

"Raito, that's mine," L warned him as the brunet flipped it open.

"But I'm inquisitive by nature," he responded, hardly even reacting as the legs he was straddling tried to unseat him. "How could I resist taking a peek?"

Raito had the audacity to stroke his naked thigh placatingly as L fought the cuffs, seeking to break them, even at the expense of his arms. They clanged harshly against the metal headboard they were looped through. "I wasn't serious when I said they were novelty items," he informed L as he pressed buttons and navigated his way through the phone. "I'm sure you've realized, they are quite real. You won't be able to break them."

"Raito, I feel the same way about privacy that you do," L ground out, panting from his battle with the unyielding handcuffs. "Would you stop and think of how you would feel if our positions were reversed?"

The brunet looked up, arching an elegant brow. "I would never have gotten myself into such a position."

He held the phone up a little higher and a sound much like a camera snapping a picture could be heard.

"What are you doing?" L asked sharply.

"Immortalizing the stunning sight of your restrained anger." He smiled. "It is quite interesting, as it is bound both by your self-possession and by your immobility." He took another picture and another.

With each snap, L's focus shifted to schooling his expression, though he was furious. Blank. _Blank._

"Oh, that's no fun, Lawliet, you aren't supposed to hide."

Again he snapped another picture as he gave L a melodramatic little frown.

"You are severely trying my patience," L warned him again.

"And what are you going to do about it, hm?" Raito sneered. "Are you going to lash out at me, detective? Show me your true colors? Let's see it, then! Come on! Show me who you _really _are underneath the civility we are all socialized to wear."

"It's ironic that you would taunt me like this when there is no way for you to lose control of the situation," L said snidely. "Are you _that _scared of not coming out on top? Are you that afraid of losing the upper hand?"

Raito's jaw clenched briefly, the only indication that L's words had had an effect. He smoothed it over with an infuriating smile. "Never that. I only fear what is possible."

L gritted his teeth, hands clenching into fists in truth. If he were not bound right now, he most certainly would strike the brunet for such taunting! Of course the brunet typically had the upper hand, but such pompous arrogance was enraging. Did he really believe that he was always in control and that that would always be the case? Did he never fear losing that position? Did he truly feel that _entitled_?

"I bet you are feeling like you could use a drink right about now," the prince said. He reached for the bottle on the nightstand, his body lowering to L's as he stretched.

L knew Raito didn't dare get up or rise to his knees as he straddled him - both would allow L free movement to lash out with his legs. And yes, at this point, he would.

Raito poured the liquor into the tiny glass, and sat a moment, just gazing upon L's face in contemplation. There was no anger or antagonism in his expression just now. In fact, he looked rather laid back. All of those negative feelings seemed to be living inside of L, alone. Seething.

Raito sipped at the drink distractedly, watching him.

Long moments passed, neither speaking.

"It's no use," the brunet said at last, with a sigh. "I like you even like this."

L couldn't stop his face from contorting in disbelief. _What, angry?_

Raito shook his head slightly to himself and poured more alcohol.

"Raito, I think you've had enough-" L began firmly, trying to shelve his anger for the moment.

The other man looked at him simply. "Indeed, maybe I have." He leaned towards L. "But this wasn't for me," he concluded, gracefully reaching out to tip the tiny glass to L's mouth while he pinched his nose closed.

L had just had the misfortune of exhaling right before, so he was only able to hold out for a few seconds before the burning in his lungs bade him to accept the draught. As soon as he swallowed, his nose was released, and he could choke on the strength of the libation without contest. He couldn't identify it, but it was stronger than whiskey, and tasted something like it, and a little like rum.

"Would you care for another?"

"Not particularly," L said weakly. How had the brunet managed to drink this stuff with a straight face, let alone so much of it?

Next thing he knew, his nose was suddenly being held shut again, the press of glass was against his lips, and the burning liquor was flooding his mouth.

His eyes teared up a little at the strength of it and with the difficulty of swallowing the punishing liquid.

Once he had gotten it down, he turned accusatory eyes to the brunet. "If what you meant was, 'would you like to take it on your own?' I would have answered differently."

"It's strong, isn't it?" Raito said conversationally. He seemed unmoved to apologize or be reticent in any way.

"It is," L agreed. "What is it?"

"If I tell you, it will no longer be a mystery."

L opened his mouth to say exactly what his opinion was on _that_, but the brunet cut him off.

"And don't give me some tired conviction on how you don't like mysteries, because if that were true, you would hardly be in your current profession."

"I like _unraveling_ them, not leaving them sit. There **is** a difference."

"And so I leave it for you to unravel, oh Great Detective."

L was feeling less than charitable. "Can I surmise that your chosen profession similarly indicates your comfort with lies and illusion?" Also, the alcohol was starting to burn through his body and he could do nothing to mute the effect.

"No, you cannot," Raito said with barely masked irritation. "If anything, it is an indication of my desire to be in a position of power."

"In a mood to share now, are we?" L said condescendingly. He was too agitated to take the gesture as a peace offering, if that was even what the forthright words were intended to be.

"Isn't this ultimately what you wanted from me?" Raito said scathingly. "Hadn't you wanted to _talk_?" He sneered then, "What does it matter the setting? You are getting exactly what you want. We are getting to know each other quite well, aren't we? All I've done is stripped away the artifice and you seem to dislike being seen at your most truthful."

"When have I ever _not_ been truthful?" L asked incredulously. "Of the two of us, you are the one that seems to encounter problems with honesty."

"Shut up."

"No. You are being unreasonable."

Raito's eyes flashed at him. "You want to see unreasonable? I can _show_ you unreasonable."

He raised the glass bottle of alcohol up over his head like he was going to strike it downwards. L flinched slightly, trying to anticipate the brunet's intent, but all that came down was a thin stream of amber toned liquid. Raito's eyes locked to his as he defiantly poured the alcohol upon him, over his chest, stomach, and even his lap. He could feel it running down his sides in tiny rivulets onto the bed.

It was wasteful, and inconceivable as to why Raito would feel the need to-

Raito bent down and lapped at his skin.

L froze, his mind freezing as well at the unexpected action.

The brunet's sensitive mouth was hot against his flesh, branding him as it explored the mess he'd made.

It was a leisurely journey that took him over L's quivering stomach, his chest, stopping here and there to give special attention, sucking on sensitive spots as if devoted to pulling whatever alcohol from it that might have somehow seeped in.

L was nearly biting through his lip, desperate to remain in control of himself and to not give the brunet anything that could be taken as encouragement.  
_  
God..._

His anger was still as present as it had been, but it was paling in the face of this treatment. It wasn't fair. Raito had not long ago been stroking his body into maddened desire and it hadn't dropped much below the surface. It was all to easy for him to call it back up.

He wanted to stay angry. He hated having the brunet wash such things away with this cloying intimacy. He hated being unable to think and the alcohol was mussing his mind as well.

His body was trembling, and it was not something he had control of. Despite being in and out of fights and brutal arguments, his stupid body was not listening to him when he insisted it should not react to this person - that it was inappropriate to do so. Instead, it defied and humiliated him, shuddering with reaction when the brunet grew more insistent.

"I love you like this," Raito murmured, lips trailing lower, down the edge of his hip.

"I hate it," L panted.

"Yet you also love it." Raito's eyes marked him as the tip of his tongue touched very hard flesh. They drank in his frustration, roving over every nuance of his bare expressions that he no longer had the ability to mask.

"No, I do not," L ground out. "I can't help that... I have a... physiological... reaction..."

"Your body is much more honest than you are, Lawliet. That is why I call you a liar."

Raito whispered kisses over his sensitive flesh, damning him many times over with the fleeting touches before pulling away. L's eyes had drifted closed as he focused on regulating his harsh breathing. It was a losing battle.

He heard something slosh, and then shortly after, Raito's mouth was pressing to his. It was a burning kiss, made more so when Raito parted his lips and fed him another draught of the mysterious drink that tasted like fire. Errant flicks of the brunet's sensual tongue teased him and caressed him into accepting the flow of it, drinking it in so that he could make way for a deeper kiss.

He was so close to giving up on himself.

Everything Raito did seemed to pull reaction after reaction out of him, no matter what he did or what he thought about it.

Everything extraneous burned away and sensation was the only thing that ruled.

_Ka-shhk_.

There was a soft sound that L did not immediately place.

In fact, he noted it several times, but every time he thought to determine the source, he found his attention pulled away again.

Sense trickled in when Raito moved back and the oppression of his presence lifted, allowing L a little cool air to clear his head.

_Ka-shhk._

"Perfect," Raito said in roughened voice.

L experienced a moment of horror as he suspected that noise to be the shutter sound on his camera phone. He looked up and sure enough...

_Ka-shhk._

Raito was staring down at him, looking scandalously sexy as he held up the little red phone and took another picture.

L couldn't recall him losing his shirt, but the brunet's lean, tanned body was bare from the waist up. His hair was slightly messy, and his lips were slightly bruised from kissing. His eyes were stunning.  
_  
Ka-shhk._

"Raito, stop that," he protested, his voice sounding deeper and more raw than it should.

"Mmn," the brunet hummed and licked his lips lasciviously.  
_  
Ka-shhk. Ka-shhk.  
_  
"I'm serious," he tried to sound authoritative. "Quit it."

"I'm sorry, Lawliet. You sound so sexy like that, I just can't stop myself."

L bit his lip. _Raito's_ voice was the one that sounded sexy - all rushed and breathy. It made his belly tighten in response.  
_  
Ka-shhk._

"Raito..." he groaned. He didn't want umpteen million pictures of hi

mself on his phone. Especially not _now_. If anything, it was the brunet's image he would want to see captured._Especially_ now.

"Who should I send them to, I wonder," Raito mused in a murmur. "Let's see who our choices are..."

"You wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?" The brunet gave him a lazy smile. It was by no means innocent.

L was horrified all over again.

"You're horrible!" he said. "How could you?" If only he could snatch his phone out of those devious hands!

"Well then, maybe you should stop me," the brunet taunted him archly.

The urge to hit Raito became so strong that L slammed his fists against the cuffs, wanting the sharp pain of metal to quell the racketing emotions inside of him. But that choking metal grip never manifested. His hands slipped free.

He didn't spare too long to contemplate why. Though it had to be the brunet's doing. He had not managed to get free on his own no matter how hard he'd tried.

He lunged forward, grabbing at the camera phone.

Raito evaded him, and began reading aloud from his contacts list. "Or should I just send one to Watari? He seems to be a good candidate for a wake-up call."

"None of the above," L snarled, getting more agitated at Raito's skills of evasion.

_How does he __**do **__that?_

"Then again," Raito said, "the circumstances should be made apparent to the recipient to have the intended effect. How about this one?" The brunet flashed him a picture that captured the both of them that was _infinitely_ less suitable for public consumption. 'Compromising' was not a strong enough word. 'Porn' sounded too mild a descriptor as well. It was mortifying and scandalous, and if he hadn't just been shown the image in the current situation, he might well have wanted to have another look at it. In the privacy of his own home. Behind closed doors. In the dark. Maybe also hidden under a blanket.

"Do you have that rat-bastard Aiber's number in here? Maybe he should get a look so that he can get it through his thick skull that you are not a free entity."

"Yes, I do, but I will kill you if you send pictures to anyone."  
_  
Bleep bloop.  
_  
"Too late."

L literally saw red for a moment. Next thing he knew, he had pinned the brunet to the bed, his hands wrapped around his throat. Raito did not have the good grace to look upset or scared, but had traded his previous expression for one that looked falsely calm. "I should just-" L snarled.

"Do it then."

L's grip tightened a little.

"Do whatever it is you think I deserve." Why was it that Raito's eyes nearly looked soulful in their quiet gaze just now? "I'm always doing the same to you, after all. It's justified. Do it."

L glanced at his phone, still held loosely in Raito's hand where it was flung out across the bed. Mainly he wanted to get that back. But oh, how pissed off he was to think on who might be receiving that image. How crass and debased it was of Raito to have sent it! How could he just **do** things like that without a care as to how it might affect others?

L looked back towards his captive with narrowed eyes. "I can't believe you just did that to me."

Raito did not look away, nor did he seem guilty. "So punish me."

Again, the quietness of the brunet's gaze struck him. As if he were waiting for something. Awaiting judgment. No more maneuverings. Stillness.

"But if you are not intending to strangle me, or are otherwise undecided as to how to proceed," Raito said, "might I suggest that you not straddle me like this? I'm not accustomed to being beneath anyone else."

"Is that so?" L said with irritation, "Well, far be it from me to make _you_ uncomfortable." He forced his lips upon the brunet's, figuring it served him right if it offended his sensibilities and tweaked at his compulsive need to be in control.

He was not denied when he demanded entrance past the brunet's sealed lips. Grudgingly, he was allowed inside. His angry possession of that mouth was met meekly. It was so unlike every other time, and it gave L a rush of power to see that it was so.  
_  
Punish you? I'll punish the hell out of you.  
_  
For what would be more of a sufferance to that massive ego than for Raito to be taken in the manner that he had taken so many others? How chafing that would be, for him to endure what he felt was beneath his station. And it was from his own lips that he gave L leave. So he couldn't refuse -_had no right to refuse._

He stroked a hand down Raito's stomach, glorying in the small twitch his body gave as it tried to shy away.

He leaned back and surveyed what was now his to conquer. The broad shoulders and tapering waist, the golden, sun-kissed tone of smooth, taut skin... The flat planes of his chest and the slight concavity of his abdomen where it disappeared beneath his pants...

He imagined how it might feel were he to peel back cloth and somehow, impossibly, slide inside of that body, to feel it be forced to take him in and to see what sort of expression the brunet might make. Would he try to appear unaffected? Would he look pained? Or would the marks of pleasure slide onto his face unwittingly?

L bent to move lips over the chest of his captive audience, feeling the lean body tense. He stroked his hands over his skin as he took the darkened nub of a nipple into his mouth, rolling it with tongue and teeth and feeling a shudder beneath him.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but he did not feel anxious contemplating doing this for the first time. His only focus was pulling reactions from the brunet, strong enough to embarrass him and to keep him from his stoic silence.

He ran his hand down over the front of Raito's slacks, cupping the brunet in his hand and squeezing. He received a stifled moan, but that was hardly enough. He returned to the petulant, sensual mouth that often said such rotten, dismissive things, and interred himself there. He kissed aggressively while he worked the brunet's flesh in his hand, and soon he could feel the faster rise and fall of that chest and began to hear the muffled sounds of passion which he devoured as soon as they were half formed.

They almost sounded like whimpers since they were cut so short.

The button and zipper on Raito's slacks came undone easier than expected, and L dragged them down the brunet's hips, catching his boxer's as well. Again, he felt that delicious tensing beneath him.  
_  
You're right, I'm justified. You've done this to me and more. Constantly you've clouded my head and used this as a tool against me. Just because you can?_

_I'll make sure you want this as much as you __**don't **__want it. I'll let you suck on that conflict as I take you.  
_  
The pants annoyed him to no end as he slid them down Raito's long, enticing legs, a seemingly endless task. Strong and well-made, they seemed unaccustomed to things like parting, but they were graceful too, and smooth. _Flawless,_ L thought as his eyes moved up the length of them, settling to where he would soon be penetrating the arrogant brunet's body.

He noticed something upon the bed as he tossed the clothing in his hands aside. A small bottle. He peered at it as he removed his own shirt and laughed to himself. So Raito was always prepared, was he? Whether it was before their fight had started, or after, Raito had secured some kind of lubricant as well as a scattering of small, squarish packets that promised _someone_ was going to be compromised bodily. Only this time, it wouldn't be him.

Raito lay with his eyes closed, not breaking expression. Even when L touched his bare flesh and took hardened steeple of it into his mouth.

Initially.

But even Raito's nearly impenetrable masks were not flawless. Not against something like this. And L remembered the only other time he'd held Raito in this fashion, cradling him upon his tongue and feeling the swell of response; the brunet had not lasted long. All too soon, his body had seized and shuddered in release.

His own body throbbed as he dragged the brunet into pleasure. It spiked when Raito gasped or moaned through clenched teeth, trying to overcome sensation and failing.

He coaxed, wheedled, and demanded in turn. And this time, there was no lack of light to hide Raito's face. It was enrapturing. He could see the response in him as he did this or that, spurring his creativity. He was also watching in fascination as a steady flush began to alight upon the brunet's cheeks.

Raito was fighting very hard not to lose himself. His arousal gave him away, however, despite the masks. And the rise and fall of his chest was only increasing.

While he was distracted with that, L had been preparing things on his end. He paused in his ministrations only long enough to tear one of the small packages open with his teeth. The rest he could manage with one hand.

The condom was not difficult to roll on, though he had to steel himself against the feel of anything touching his length as he was already quite hard. The lubricant's lid made only a minimal noise as he pried it open, surely soft enough to escape one's notice if one were being distracted in the manner that Raito was.

Raito was panting heavily now, his face turned to the side and an expression quite like endurance riding his face. He nearly looked vulnerable. For him. No longer did he look to be the indomitable force that L had encountered almost exclusively.

L put a finger to his entrance, and slowly pushed inside, watching the brunet unerringly.

A slight twitch was the only facial reaction.

Raito looked much younger than normal just now, like he did when he was sleeping. Without those sharp expressions, his visage changed drastically. L kissed his thighs, encouraging the brunet to spread his legs wider. He seemed loath to do so. _Embarrassment at last?_ L wondered with a flash of satisfaction. He added a second finger and felt both vindicated and aroused as his partner made a noise that was either from discomfort or pleasure.

Of course, he himself was well acquainted with the feeling of all of this. So when he began to slide his fingers in and out, he was not surprised to see the conflicted desire try to surface on Raito's face. He added a third finger and took his time getting the body before him used to it.

Raito had flung an arm across his eyes and his mouth was open, moving slightly with his panting breaths.

It would be hard to look upon him like this, laid bare, and not be affected. It was hard enough to wait this long in order to do this right. L wanted more and needed to see that face from close up as he breached his body.

He kept expecting Raito to say something. To joke, or say something cutting as usual. It was strange to have the utter silence. But that was something he would have to dissect at a later date. He was past thinking clearly. The buzz of alcohol sang in his veins, forming a chorus with the rush of the power trip he was on in this moment and the steady beat of arousal that battered at his patience.

He withdrew his fingers and moved into position over Raito's body, the radiating heat of it driving him mad. He wanted to sink into it, bite it, caress it - all at once and he couldn't decide. But he knew it was only his mind focusing on easier things than the last transgression he was about to make.

Was Raito really allowing him to do this?

But why?

Really, why?

He wondered and yet, even as he did, he was already pushing inside.

It was tight and feverishly hot. He nearly had to pause to catch his breath but his body was still sliding forward, forward, then thrusting out and back in again experimentally before he could stop it - before he could even look up at the brunet's face or catch his lips like he'd been wanting to do.

His hand ghosted up Raito's arousal, moving upon it as he slid again within that gripping heat and he started to hear the sounds he'd been craving. He played to the brunet's body, kissing his neck and feeling every part of him respond as he moved. He kneaded the flesh in his hand until it was as firm as steel and Raito's back was arching, his body now opening more to his penetration.

He sought Raito's mouth, kissing him fervently, and eventually he felt arms circle him in a tentative embrace.

It was so unreal.

And so... _hot_.

He murmured the brunet's name over and over again, overcome with sensation and the feelings swamping him.

He felt so close to him right now, as if he was nearly touching his very soul. And there were words whispered in his own ears, amidst panting breaths, that he could not quite make sense of but made this feel so right.

He wished Raito would lose control, though. He said as much, and was rewarded with the cantankerous raking of nails down his back.

"Nnn!" The sound slipped out as his flesh protested. The wicked, stinging little trails _hurt_. Not only that, he could swear that the brunet's body squeezed around him at that same moment, dragging another moan from his lips.

"Raito-" he started, determined to find out if his partner had really felt a thrill from his pain.

Raito's eyes were luminous.

The reddened amber was like a slivered crescent moon around the deep pool of black in the center. He did not look like a victim. He looked like bait that was really actually the trap itself. The brunet placed a predatory kiss upon L's mouth, pressing it there with a curling smile. Nails skimmed his back, threatening to drag down at any moment. "Don't stop on my account," Raito breathed against his mouth.

That familiar fissure of uncertainty trickled through L: that twisted-up, familiar feeling of desire and unease. That god-awful ruinous feeling that the brunet so easily inspired, which tore at what passed for L's confidence. And yet it was that same unstable feeling that could amplify such things as desire.

Raito moved against him, sinking claws into the flesh of his buttocks as his hips canted upward - making L cry out hoarsely at the pain, and the pleasure of slipping deeper into that treacherous body. "Mmmn," Raito issued a self-satisfied moan as his body squeezed him. It reddened L's face in an instant.

He wasn't sure if it was real or just for show, that moan, but it affected him all the same.

"Come, Lawliet, or do you need me to pick up where you are leaving off?"

"You can't just-" L started in a winded voice, not sure what exactly he was even trying to protest. But it was just that... well... he suddenly felt as if control had been snapped up and away from him and he wasn't quite sure how or why or what to do about it.

Oh, there was nothing innocent in the brunet's expression now, though he looked like he was torn between being mean and being indulgent.

Raito began caressing his back, his sides, and everywhere his insidious hands could touch.

L felt his arousal throb, still buried deep inside the brunet - still very much alive and swollen with need.

Raito's hips rocked upwards into his, and his mouth sought L's.

_Why does it feel so very different when he is the one kissing me, or doing things to me?_ It all felt so good, but when the brunet was leading, L's brain took an extended vacation. He felt helpless to do anything else.

Desire curled in his gut, spurred on by the active part Raito was now choosing to play. The brunet's muscles milked his flesh as they moved, merciless and demanding. He was breathing hard now, gasps and moans starting to spill from his lips.

L felt a hand twist into his hair, pulling it down. "Was it as good as you imagined," Raito whispered harshly into his ear, breathing heavily himself, "being in control?"

"Yes," L ground out.

"Liar," Raito said almost affectionately. "You're feeling it much more now. Look at you, you're a mess. Your eyes are glazing over and you can't even move without shuddering and moaning my name."

L flushed even harder at that and tried to protest. It wasn't that bad. It _wasn't_.

Raito coiled about him like a snake and squeezed, arms that were once loose were now gripping tightly, and even his legs were doing the same. It shifted their position so that when Raito thrust upward, it was more devastating than ever.

L tried to keep silent but, damnit, it was just not humanly possible.

"You should have just... let me... _ravish _you... in the _first place_... you stubborn fool," the brunet panted.  
_  
God..._ L moaned, losing his wits.

Maybe the brunet had a point but he still... still... could not express how amazing it felt to be inside of him... So what if he was no longer in control once Raito decided to have that for himself? He still wanted this, and _felt_ this, and top or bottom - things like that were of little consequence. Desire was flaring in him with each motion, threatening to explode.

"Top or... bottom... I still own you," Raito said, dragging L's mouth down to his roughly, his body bowing up and swallowing L's as release took him.

L spasmed as Raito's body sucked at his, drawing orgasm from him forcefully like it was something that could be snatched away by a thief.

His vision was blinded white, and he grounded himself by sinking his teeth into the curve of Raito's shoulder. Intense feeling shuddered and rippled through him, whipping away pieces of his being with every wave. Hammering him. Stripping his self-awareness until nothing was left.

Finally, like even the most brutal storm, it subsided.

He collapsed bonelessly to the bed as it let him go, and spent the next small eternity relearning how to breathe.

* * *

The early afternoon sun was not much of a match for the hazy motel room window, but it did its best.

Raito mulled over the dour curtains which he probably should have closed earlier - they might have given some passerby quite an eyeful - but the notion did not seem all that pressing at the moment, and he made no move to remedy it. Besides, the chances that someone had made it by this room at the end, or that anyone else had even stopped at this place, were pretty slim.

Not that he would have bothered himself to move if that _hadn't_ been the case. He was quite comfortable. He'd grabbed one of the pillows and jammed it under his head before he let lethargy take over. It felt a little strange being cattycorner on the bed with their feet pointed vaguely towards the head of the bed, but he hadn't wanted to take the time to move from where they lay. It also made it easy for him to pull his companion to him to use his own body as a pillow.

His hands were drifting lazily over the detective's spiky dark hair, toying with it and smoothing it in turns.

It was warm and pleasing like this.

"Raito?" Lawliet asked in voice that was just this side of talking in his sleep.

He sounded worn out. Not surprising what with how many times they'd come together like this in the last 24 hours. The time in the elevator at work yesterday, the extended, repeated times yesterday evening after the dinner and game they'd had with Watari and Celia, the time Aiber had been privy to this morning, and just now...

It was a new record.

The frequency was quite gratifying. For many reasons.

"Mn?" he responded softly. He was wrapped in a warmth of feeling, and even this room managed to look restful. Indeed, he could not think of one single place he would rather be than right here with Lawliet laying within the languid cage of his arms. Thoughts drifted lazily across the surface of his mind like clouds.

Raito loved this feeling of being utterly sated.

He felt so calm and at peace.

"Why do we always fight so much?" his companion ventured. His voice did not lose much of the drowsy sound. He spoke it like it was a passing thought, something that he truly had no opinion on. There were no accusations, just the simple inquiry.

Raito rolled the question around in his head lazily, turning it this way and that. Pondering. "Maybe because we are both headstrong and used to having things exactly how we want them?"

"Hn," Lawliet responded in a deflated tone, "then I suppose we're doomed."

"Why would you say that?" Raito murmured as he continued playing his hands through the soft jags of hair, unconcerned.

It was funny, how much differently this conversation might have gone under different circumstances. Just now, it was still not enough to disrupt the connection between them nor dispel the feeling of belonging. It was nice, being on the same side of a discussion, not battling things out - to calmly dissect something without being at odds.

"Because the circumstances, if those are it, do not seem likely to change?" His pet intellectual sounded sullen.

_Really..._

"Have faith in us," he chided softly.

It was only when he felt Lawliet's body tense slightly in surprise that he realized how that sounded. Speaking of them as a couple like that... As if they were already bound inextricably and were one in mind as well as body... That slipped closer to the realm of taking their relationship further - which often led to the topic of living together and _that_ was a sticking point that could surely break this spell. "We are both of above-average intellect, I'm sure we can discover a way around it," he added, hoping he passed it off as the continuation of the previous thought.

"Mm," Lawliet responded, settling back down again. He was silent for a time. "It would be easier if we could be like this more often," he murmured. He paused, as if weighing what he said next. "It seems easier to talk to you."

"I'd be more than happy to offer my services any time you like," he said archly.

"Ugh," the other man groaned, peeved though embarrassed at his propositioning. "You know that isn't what I meant."

"Of course." He smiled warmly, though his companion couldn't see it. "But why would I miss out on a choice opportunity to tease you?"

"Indeed." Lawliet sounded a little miffed. But there was no tension in his body and he didn't bother to move. He also did not seem to mind Raito's hands in his hair. "So why aren't you like this more often?"

"Stress? Paranoia? Control issues?" he mused aloud. "I don't know, take your pick."

It was still a little unnerving how honest and open he could get when he was drowsy or sated. He'd realized that before when dealing with Lawliet. He'd found as well that with all of his armor at his feet, their interaction was much smoother and he didn't in fact feel that he needed it. But that would be the only instance in life when he'd felt such a thing. He typically armed himself to the teeth. And with good reason.

"I'm still mad at you, you know," his dark-haired companion informed him offhandedly.

"For what?" he asked casually. He wasn't surprised to hear it. It was to be expected. But again, his reactions were not kicking up, and he merely accepted the statement without rancor or defenses.

"For handcuffing me. For fighting with me. For driving recklessly. For trying to scare me with a knife - where did you get that, by the way?"

"I keep it in my car. Are you done yet, or were you pausing for breath?"

"I shall continue. I have a long list of grievances."

Again, Raito noted with wry amusement that the complaining detective was lying upon him quite comfortably and did not seem inclined to relocate. "I'm listening," Raito said.

"For making me drink strange liquor. For hijacking me to wherever it is that we are now. For always taunting me and making me feel like I can't move a muscle without you jumping me." He interrupted himself, "Actually, this list is too long already. Besides, I'm sure there are things you've done that I don't even _know_ about, so it isn't even possible to have a comprehensive list."

"That might be true," Raito admitted good-naturedly. He tapped down the flow of words that might have had him admit to Lawliet the true events of this morning and Aiber's involvement. "By the way, I only sent that picture to myself." He actually would have liked to send copies of all of the pictures he'd taken on the detective's phone to himself, but there had hardly been time.

"Really?" Lawliet sounded relieved.

"Check your phone later. You'll see."

He would probably need to get ahold of the little red phone before the insomniac got his hands on it though, or all of those interesting pictures would likely be deleted.

"Raito... I know this is sort of a sore topic, but... Is there some reason you aren't telling me that makes you want me to move in with you?"

"Mm." He stalled. The first thing he felt moved to say would have needed to be backed up promptly with his divulging of Aiber's stalking, breaking and entering. Doing that still seemed like a bad move, even now.

"You aren't going to tell me?" A wary tone was creeping into the detective's voice. If left unchecked, it would destroy the bubble surrounding them.

"I just didn't see why you were so averse to it," Raito said placatingly. "You hadn't struck me as being afraid to commit."

"I'm not, I guess," Lawliet said reluctantly. "It hadn't really come up before. I just can't predict a lot of this kind of stuff... and I don't want to say I am all right with something only to take it back."

"Why don't you just try it out and see what you think?"

Lawliet pushed up onto his elbows and peered into Raito's face, dark eyes searching for something. "That sounds reasonable." He paused. "Are you feeling ok?"

"Do you expect that I am sick every time I've uttered something you deem reasonable?"

Lawliet frowned. "Well, _no_, but we've touched on this topic many times and this is the first time it seems feasible."

Raito shrugged.

"Are you certain you would be ok with it? What if I decide that it is not workable after trying it? Won't you just get angry? Would you even let me leave again?"

Ok, so now frustration was trying to trickle in. Lawliet really did make him sound unreasonable. "Yes, I would be ok with it. I wouldn't have mentioned it otherwise." He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. "I was mostly angry because you wouldn't consider it. At least if you tried it, you could say with certainty _why_ you didn't like it, or you would find out that it was fine."

Though, annoyingly enough, his companion was right - he probably wouldn't see any reason of Lawliet's as being valid enough. _And I probably wouldn't want to let him leave, either._

"I'll give you the use of the room I used to keep locked so that you can work in peace," he offered. "Surely your work is your most pressing concern?"

"And if I am working, you will not try to distract me?" the detective asked dubiously. "I can know that you will leave me to it when I am in there?"

Raito sighed in a put-upon manner. "As much as it pains me to agree to that... yes." He eyed his recalcitrant bedfellow. "But you must go to sleep with me when I retire for the evening. And be cognizant of meal times so that I will not be disturbing you."

Was that a slight nodding of that dark head that he perceived?

"I'll agree to it then, on one condition," Lawliet said slowly, bargaining with him. He seemed more amenable now that ground rules, something concrete, had been established.

"And that is?"

"That you will allow me the option of being the top, if I want it," he said defiantly.

Raito gifted him with a rather large frown. "I thought you saw the folly in that earlier."

He was actually rather disgruntled at the request. It had been exceedingly difficult to put himself in that position, to give that kind of trust to the other man. He'd mostly done it as an act of desperation. He'd realized how out of hand things were getting and the only thing he could think of to make any sort of amends was to relinquish his control. And the only way he thought he could make that happen was if they were both drunk, aroused, and if his companion was angry enough to go through with it, without concern for his feelings.

It wasn't intended to be a repeat activity.

In fact, it had thrown him seriously out of whack as he'd lain there, waiting for it to happen. He'd only felt himself again when Lawliet had faltered and he had picked up the slack.

He didn't like feeling young and defenseless. And that was exactly how he'd felt when he'd suffered the same position back in France with the classmate he'd been boarding with. He'd had to play a very specific role with that boy in order to get what he'd wanted. Innocent, preppy, harmless. That role had chipped away at him every day and every time he'd found it necessary to seduce the other boy. He'd had the boy wrapped around his finger, a convenience for his exodus, but an inconvenience when it came to really _living_. It had been tiresome and tedious to have to seduce the other boy each time, while making it seem like _he_ was the one being seduced.

Yes, playing innocent chafed greatly.

It had been such a relief when he was in the position to move on and find his own place. Much like leaving the restrictions he'd suffered at home. Indeed, between the two situations he'd been playing a similar part.

Being with Lawliet was different. He was allowed to be rash, spontaneous, and even debased. It was nearly _expected_ of him. He wouldn't mind having the dark-haired man in his space, because he could mostly be himself. It was comfortable.

So why did the other man have to ask him to compromise himself in such a way?  
_  
(You could always just ask)_ a voice in the back of his head suggested blandly.

They had locked gazes, each stubbornly trying to get his way through sheer will.

"Why are you asking me for this?"

"Because you don't want to do it," the detective said simply.

Raito frowned. "I hope there is more to your reasoning than that," he said bluntly. "A great deal more."

"It's important," the dark-haired insomniac maintained. "I've had reservations about many things that you have asked me for, and so I want this. It isn't merely because you are not inclined. It's because you would be showing me a good deal of trust in accepting."

Raito grit his teeth in irritation. It was a good argument. Fairly airtight. He wanted to rip it apart and find the flaws, but he knew that he would be upsetting a fragile balance.

Lawliet watched him carefully. "It wasn't as bad as all of that, was it?" Tension was forming around his dark eyes and his face was slipping towards the blank mask he slipped on at the first sign of trouble.

"No... it's..." Raito ran a hand through his hair then slid up off of the bed, seeking his clothing. He wondered if everything would be ruined if he were to acquiesce to this condition. What if it changed things? Would he need to be prepared to have this condition be met at any given time? What if he was made to stuff himself back into that stifling role again? He couldn't bear it.

"Raito," the detective said quietly. "Can't you just talk to me? I can feel you closing off, and your mind is going a mile a minute. What is amiss?"

Raito begin pacing back and forth, dark eyes following him. He knew this was one of those moments where miscommunication could fling them headlong into an argument. He chewed the inside of his lip. They both seemed to be rather sensitive individuals at the core; it was kind of funny, in an unamusing sort of way. This was one of those times where their superior intellect was supposed to chime in and help keep them from ruining their fledgling relationship. Or so he had assured his companion only minutes ago.

He sighed heavily, deciding that evasion was what usually escalated things perilously. Not that truth always panned out in any sort of acceptable way...  
_  
Maybe we are doomed to fail,_ he thought miserably.

"Lawliet, do you not agree that you are more amenable to me when I am leading things?"

The detective was frowning at him, he noted with a glance. "I suppose that might be the case," the detective said reluctantly.

"Then why do you want this? Why is this your condition?"

"I've already answered that."

Raito chewed on the inside of his lip more harshly, and sooner or later the skin was bound to split. He wanted to act out of anger, feeling as if answers were being willfully withheld from him, but maybe Lawliet just did not understand what he was asking. He'd already said he did not like the fighting, so it was unlikely that he would start a fight intentionally. "Yes, trust," he waved it off, "but why like this?"

"Oh." Lawliet looked pensive for a moment. "Perhaps that is because I thought it was a shame that you would let me be with you like that only the one time. I agree that you are in fine form when you are in control, but it hardly seemed that being on the bottom restricted you in that overmuch. Not by the end anyway." He looked slightly apologetic. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure that made sense."

Raito stared at him consideringly, his eyes narrowed. "You were ok with how that transpired? I thought you might have been irritated over it."

Lawliet made a sour face. "It's galling to admit it, but you are probably right. I liked being in control but it pales in intensity."

"So you do not require submission, only that I might allow a reversal of positions?"

The detective suffered a blush and turned away. "Yes, I suppose that is a fairly accurate summation."

Raito stopped pacing. It still chafed a bit, but if that was the case, he could stand to relent. He still worried about the execution, but if Lawliet was saying he needn't change his behavior, then maybe it would work. And, if he played his cards right, perhaps he could dissuade the detective from desiring such a thing from him at all. Lawliet was a bottom, through and through, just as he himself was naturally a top. There was a balance there, a natural order that should not be tampered with.

It truly wasn't that it hadn't felt good. It had - just as everything with the dark-haired intellectual felt more intense than it had with anyone else. It was the psychological aspect that was the issue. As long as he could keep that in his realm of liking, he wouldn't complain.

"All right," he said, more tersely than he intended.

Lawliet looked surprised. "You'll go through with it?"

"It looks that way, doesn't it?" _You know, it can sometimes be utterly exhausting being so open all the time_, he thought. He found some solace in being vague.

He felt exceptionally tired all of a sudden.

Making his way back to the bed, he allowed himself to fall upon it face first and found that he desperately desired sleep. He wondered vaguely what Lawliet would do with himself if he passed out, and then there was darkness.

* * *

TBC


	22. Ceiling

**PITCH**

* * *

Light x L

* * *

Part 22

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

**A/N: **I just started watching the show 'Merlin'. Produced in the UK, and I Love It! Give it a go, it should appeal to a wide audience. (Not a bad show for some yaoi fodder, either! Quite slashable. Haha)

Thank you for reading!

P.S. Look up 'Green Smoothies'. If you do them right, they are actually really good. And super healthy to boot. :)  
Peace out.

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.) No booze was harmed in the making of this fic.

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 22: (Ceiling)

L watched Raito lapse into unconsciousness, and knew that it was not a state he would be adopting any time soon. There was the small sense of victory that something had finally been worked out, and yet...

...there was a certain restlessness lurking within him.

L frowned, brows drawing together as he listlessly took measure of the room again. There was a sense of wrongness that ebbed at the borders of his mind, elusive and yet making him certain that in staying here, it might worsen.

What had that peaceful, calm feeling of just moments ago been? Where had it come from and where had it gone so suddenly?

Little details about the room mocked him, that he had even felt such a thing as peace. The handcuffs that lie draped on the headboard, like a dozing serpent, harmless at the moment though dangerous when engaged... the knife... the alcohol... So many unwholesome little details that cast a darkness upon the scene with which to combat the serenity in the sleeping figure beside him. It was so wrong, the nearly angelic innocence in that face when the evidence of his handiwork lay about in plain view.

L could still see the flash of those entitled eyes, and feel the burn of resentment and fear in his throat as he _was 'convinced'_ to do as Raito wanted.

He felt torn. There was reasonable Raito - with whom he had agreed to try cohabitation... Then there was the Raito who had shackled, threatened and humiliated him without pause. Each side of the brunet called up a different set of emotions and he wasn't sure what to do about it. Raito was _wrong_ for having done this. Any of it. And yet L found himself acquiescing to living with him? That was illogical, wasn't it? Irrational?

L slipped from the bed and hunted his clothing.

He would have liked a shower, but he couldn't afford the chance that the brunet might awaken by the time he had finished. He needed to leave. And the best way to accomplish that was to do it while the brunet was not in a position to stop him.

L contemplated the handcuffs. It would serve the brunet right if L were to cuff him and leave him here. To let him feel how that had felt... even for the brief time it would take for him to free himself. But L couldn't suffer to meet the brunet's eyes. They were too hypnotic - like a viper's - and his resolve and mental state were too easily swayed by their pull. He couldn't risk Raito waking for any reason. He could not be at the mercy of his gaze or words. He just needed to slip out undetected.

His ruined shirt flapped about him as he thrust his feet into the legs of his pants and pulled them up over his hips. His eyes roved the bed for the red glint of his cell phone as he patted his pockets.

It was there - almost tucked beneath Raito's lean form. He slid the phone from the tangle of sheets, knuckles brushing accidentally against flesh. His hand jerked back and he tensed, waiting for the brunet to stir. He did not. L's eyes drifted across sleek, tanned skin, unwittingly, following the inviting curve of his back and the temptation it offered. _Touch me_, it practically beckoned. And it was hard to resist running his hands over it, to feel smooth skin and the play of muscle beneath it as Raito awakened and stretched into the caress like a cat.

L fisted his hands to keep them from defecting, the cell phone clutched in one.

_Why am I so sick for you?_ he wondered spitefully, still berating himself for his roaming eyes, and now also for the strength with which he had to fight the urge to touch._ I'm beside myself with how you treat me and yet I still-_!

He thrust the phone into his pocket and let himself out. He disregarded the common courtesy of leaving a note. One, he did not wish to delay himself further. Two, he was angry. He was angry at himself, and angry at Raito.

* * *

L stalked up to the main office and pulled the door open none-too-gently.

The bored-looking clerk was the same today as yesterday. His brows lifted slightly as he looked at L, and perhaps there was a touch of unease and curiosity as he noticed bare skin and the shirt without buttons. He also looked like he did not want to deal with something as troublesome as being implicated with having a hand in whatever had befallen the dark-haired man before him. The boy quickly avoided eye contact, his face re-assuming the bored I'm-not-involved expression.

"I need to use your phone."

"Sorry. It's for office use only," the boy replied.

L was already irritated that his phone did not seem to have reception outside of the room. _Stupid, spotty cellular networks._ Wouldn't it make more sense for the phone to not work IN the room? Regardless... It was supremely irritating that this kid seemed to be clinging to the loyalty that Raito's money had inspired.

L rested his hands on the counter. "You do realize that what you did can be considered a crime, do you not? I would be well within my rights to press charges."

The kid blanched. "I don't want any sort of trouble."

L plucked a business card off of the desk. "Then I suggest you call me a taxi," he said darkly. "Right now." There was no telling how far he'd have to walk to encounter a signal. He might as well get the taxi arranged here, instead of just procuring the number as he'd originally thought to do.

"S-Sure," the boy stammered, fumbling at the computer to look up a number.

* * *

L felt marginally better after terrorizing the impudent little punk who thought that money held more weight than another person's well-being. Is this how kids were being raised these days? Or were some of them just rotten to begin with?

He shook his head as he walked away from the building, his shoes crunching on gravel. It was a little windy out. It caught at his ruined shirt, flipping it this way and that, making him feel rather exposed in a location such as this. At the beach, perhaps, this would have been closer to normal attire. (Not that he'd ever frequented such a place.) Here, it was more like being somewhat naked.

He couldn't say the last time he had felt the wind or sun on his bare skin. He couldn't decide if he liked it or loathed it. Part of that was surely due to the situation as well as his impatience in awaiting the taxi.

_Maybe I should have taken Raito's shirt instead.  
_  
The wind gusted and fingered through his hair.

_Yeah, right. _That would have been the last thing he needed - to be surrounded by the brunet's scent even as he was fleeing him. What he _did_need was some distance. A chance to think clearly and to not have everything so muddied by physicality and the brunet's endless manipulations. He needed time to attend to work and to take stock of his priorities. He needed to step off of this roller coaster he'd been on these last many weeks.

Raito was probably going to be pissed.

While he waited, L ran through his head just what sort of message he was going to send as soon as he was in the vehicle and on his way. It wouldn't do to send it now and risk waking the brunet up. Not when all Raito would have to do is walk out the door and drag him back.

L made a sour face. He had not appreciated being dragged through the parking lot the first time, and it still chaffed that he'd lost in a contest of strength. It had been humiliating and startling to find himself unable to alter the course of events. In addition to nicking his pride, it made him feel a complete loss of control which was hard to bear. First Aiber, then Raito. He _had_ been confident in his skills in self-defense, yet once again they'd been rendered useless. He'd had no recourse when their hands were already upon him. He needed some distance in order to be effective. He was no grappler.

He was rapidly finding this to be an untenable disadvantage.

His frown darkened. _What, am I supposed to lift weights in my infinite spare time? _

If anything would raise Watari's brows, it would be a sudden interest in working out. The man would likely have him institutionalized.

* * *

A soft _chirrup_ noise stirred Raito to wakefulness. He groggily tried to remember where he'd last seen his phone, but he was coming up with nothing.

He rolled over onto his back, arms outstretched, and looked at the dingy ceiling for a long moment. He did not bother to look around. The place felt empty. What good would it do to confirm that the detective had already slipped through his fingers when he already _knew_ that he had?

It irritated him, this feeling of loss.

They'd agreed to move forward, and yet it felt as if they were moving backward, rapidly.

Lawliet was doing his disappearing act again, and they were coming back to square one.

Raito felt that elusive emotion of regret and accountability mark his face, sliding upon it uninvited.

He sat up, rubbing his face with his hands to rid himself of it._ Why should I feel guilty? He's the one that's being so stubborn and willful. We wouldn't have gotten anywhere at all if it weren't for me. _

But he knew he'd pushed too far. He'd already seen it while he'd been in the act.

He'd offered up himself and his precious control _because_ he'd seen things falling apart in front of him. Damage control. His wild impulses were getting worse, and Lawliet's behavior was spurring them on. He was so used to getting what he wanted... he wasn't quite sure how to react now when that wasn't the way things went.

But at least he was _trying_. He was making the effort to seek balance. What was Lawliet doing other than running away?

Raito looked around and spotted his phone on the floor next to the nightstand, accompanied by the shot glass, which lolled on its side, and the smell of alcohol.

The hefty pocket knife lay on the table, open and ready.

They painted a rather... colorful picture, did they not, these accoutrements?

He looked over at the headboard and the handcuffs with a blank expression. He could still conjure the image, real as life, of slim white wrists filling those cuffs and fighting against them until they were raw. He could see dark eyes burning with suppressed anger as Lawliet was forced to comply with whatever Raito wanted of him. And no matter which emotion the detective claimed, love or hate, there was a heated passion behind his words and in every nuance of his expression, veiled or not. He felt very strongly and his feelings were likely every bit as volatile as Raito's own.

How else would he have been swayed between anger and lust, then fear and back again? And how was Raito supposed to stop himself from forcing those reactions in the dark-haired detective when they were so very fascinating to behold? Rage giving way and folding beneath violating kisses... Fear overriding desire, and then desire overriding fear. Anger and injustice cutting down inhibitions and paving the way to yet more passion. It was probably rather sick and twisted. But he couldn't help it and was likely Lawliet couldn't either.

_And he does fight it so very hard...  
_  
Raito's phone began to flash, which meant someone was calling, and he realized as he bent to pick it up that he was still intoxicated. He ran a hand through his hair as he answered it, trying to pull his thoughts from all of the colorful images of Lawliet that were emblazoned in his mind. Darkly flushed cheeks, that mouth that looked so erotic when it breathed in gasps, his long pale neck arching back as Raito touched him, the taste of salt on his skin...

"Why haven't you come in to work today?" A shrill voice demanded, ripping through his musings. It was Hal, his PA.

_Fuck._

"If you are not dead," she continued, "which you are most certainly **not** since you are answering the phone, than you had better damned well be maimed or missing the fingers needed to dial work for not having come in and missing one of THE most important meetings of the month!"

What day was it? Tuesday?

"Shit," he hissed. This was going to be a hassle.

"_'Shit_' is right, you asshole! Do you have any idea how hard it's been covering you since yesterday afternoon? Where in the _**hell**_ have you been?"

"I've been taking care of some things-"

"Well, I sincerely hope that they're more important than your _career_, because you are hanging by a _thread_."

Still, it couldn't be as bad as all of that. Hal was prone to being overly dramatic at times, in his opinion. Still, what an interesting thing she had proposed. Was it possible he really did place Lawliet above his career? He never done that before with anything or anyone...

"Raito, are you listening to me?"

"No," he answered dismissively. He had much more important things to consider. "And you ranting at me is not going to change anything for the better, so please stop before I am forced to hang up on you."

She spluttered incoherently.

"I'm sure you handled everything with your usual grace, which is the very reason I hired you. So tell me, who am I to make amends with and when?"

She rattled off a list of names, but the crucial parties were only two in number. The rest could be mollified by simple means.

"All right," he said, repeating the two names of import. "I can do dinner tonight and then a business lunch tomorrow. Arrange it."

"But where **are **you?" she insisted. "Why aren't you at the office?"

"Perhaps I got food poisoning."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed, dismissing the idea entirely. "The Chairman is looking for you as well. Aiber reported that your cute little detective friend wasn't at the meeting the other day, that I was filling in, and then Amane-san confirmed it with the roster. He is_ not_ in a friendly mood. I've been trying to avoid him all morning."

Raito felt a brief jolt twist through his gut. _Aiber_. Aiber who had been confined in Lawliet's closet. It wasn't that discovery that put him on edge - the man would have been removed by now - it was that any excuse of sickness had been ruled out by his own hand. Obviously he would have been feeling just fine if he had been spending the night with the detective and sending messages in the morning for Chairman Amane to pick up his foreign trash. Amane was going to be livid. Positively livid. Raito had taken too many liberties all at once. Entirely too many.

"Hal, do what you can until I get there. It may be a little while, but I promise it will be as soon as possible."

"You almost sound like you are apologizing."

Raito contemplated that. "I suppose I am, in a way."

"...Maybe the food poisoning story is not so outlandish after all. Are you ok? You're not in the hospital are you?"

Raito was beginning to notice an irritating trend that when he tried to be nice, people assumed he was ill. "Do not try my patience, woman."

"No, your highness," she said flippantly, "I wouldn't dream of it."

"I can demote you, you know."

"I'd welcome it! Being your personal assistant is stressful."

"Then I'll let that serve as your punishment," he said off-handedly. "I need to go, or I'll never get there."

"Just don't get in a car accident or anything with your speeding."

"Moi?"

"Hurry it up, Raito."

He hung up and contemplated showering in the room's tiny bathroom. Immediately after, he dismissed the idea as he still would not have appropriate attire to don afterwards. He needed to stop by his house either way, so he might as well shower there instead of in the questionably clean facilities here.

He threw on his shirt and shoes and tossed the bottle of alcohol, the shot glass, and the handcuffs into the plastic shopping bag. The knife, he folded up and dropped into his pocket.

Now that he was on his feet, he felt like hell. He'd definitely had too much to drink, and thoughts of Lawliet were eating away at him. Not to mention the soreness he felt as a result of his taking things too far. He'd never expected to feel that sort of bodily ache again, not after France. It grated at his nerves. Had it been worth it? Had it accomplished what he'd intended? To suffer the effects without knowing its _effectiveness_ was difficult indeed.

He glanced around the room one more time, making sure he'd left nothing behind. There was no note or anything of the sort to explain Lawliet's silent departure. He hadn't expected one, and yet... it seems that somehow he had. He wondered if Lawliet would answer if he called. Had he decided to be angry again?

He wondered at the alert he'd heard on his phone earlier, likely an email or text, but it would have to wait. His first priority at the moment had to be his work. He'd been jeopardizing it past what was reasonable. He had to get back on track. He had to get his thoughts off of Lawliet, and out of this rut of possession and lust. He could barely think straight anymore. All he could do is fixate on how to get Lawliet within his reach, within his bed, and devise ways in which he could keep him in his life.

That such goals had superceded his career and his drive for power was disturbing.

* * *

"You are aware of why I called you into my office, aren't you, boy?"

Raito stood at attention just inside the claustrophobic room with its persistent gloom, burgundy colors and dark wood. The heavy wine-colored drapes made the office bear even more of a striking resemblance to the Chairman's study at home. It didn't look much like an office at all, really. Perhaps more like an opium den.

"I missed an important meeting," Raito said grimly, voicing the least of his transgressions.

"Ha!" Chairman Amane barked humorlessly. "That is the least of it." He regarded Raito with a gimlet eye. "That was very presumptuous of you this morning." He was referring to Raito trussing up Aiber and notifying them that he was ready for pickup. "It left my heart all aflutter. Not a good thing at my age."

"With all due respect, I wasn't sure what else to do, Sir."

The Chairman narrowed his eyes. "Is that so? It seems to me that you are feeling you have the ability to throw your weight around and your arrogance rather astounds me." The Chairman poured himself a stiff drink. "Your attack on my star employee has not gone unnoticed. That was a nasty shock you dealt him."

"What would you have me do? You let your dog off of his leash and I had to do damage control. You owe me for packaging him and his stupidity into a neat little bundle for you to collect. Or would you rather have had him cause a scene and let that get back to Misa?"

The Chairman's face rarely let slip that mask of joviality, but just now his eyes were burning like brimstones. "My boy, my boy. It is truly a shame at how little you know your place. Did you fancy yourself to be self-sufficient so early in the game or think yourself free of my support?"

Raito felt unease stir in him like viscous waters. "No, Sir."

"I've tolerated your impertinence thus far, but I am no saint. If you insist on testing your wings, I can and **will **break them."

Raito bowed his head, looking demure, but he was seething.

"Mikami will take your place on the project. He's been itching for the chance to prove himself, and I think that letting him ride on your hard work should be a sufficient start to your punishment, don't you?"

Raito nearly choked on the "Yes, Sir." Amane knew of the bad blood between them and often liked to stir it. But this? This was going too far!

"You are also making me re-evaluate your worth to me as a free entity."

Raito froze. _Not good. Not good._ The misgiving he felt now was like a wave gathering itself _en force_.

"Why waste all of the effort I put into you by doing it all over again with Aiber? Misa is smitten with you most of all, Aiber has some inexplicable fixation with the detective, and you are more useful to me when you are not distracted by your personal life." His voice was barren, dropping the laughs, and it was unpleasant at best. "It makes me think, my boy, that I would be better served by offering you severance pay and making sure you never get the chance to further your career in any circuit. Or... I could offer you the chance to make Misa happy and to take over for me when I am through."

Raito tried to keep his facade in place but it felt as if icy blades were shredding his guts. "Is Aiber failing to win the fair Misa's heart?"

He was feeling dizzy and a little sick. His entire world was hanging in the balance right now.

"Pheh!" The Chairman laughed. "With you as his competition? And that face of yours? It's practically a doomed venture. You look pale, boy. Here, have a drink." He poured a small, cut crystal glass full of a dark-colored liquid and held it out.

"I shouldn't. It's still business hours..."

The Chairman stared at him like a gargoyle until he relented and took the glass. In truth, he wanted to drink himself under the table. He poured it down his throat, hoping it would steady his nerves. This had to be the WORST fucking situation he'd ever found himself in. And what of Lawliet? If he was forced into being with Misa again, where would that leave Lawliet? It was obvious that Chairman Amane planned to toss the detective to Aiber. He'd be eaten alive.

"You're good at what you do, Raito. Perhaps too good."

"I take it that isn't a compliment."

"No, it's a piece of advice. Those that _are_ the best will be sought after by those who _want_ the best. Those that are the best do not slip under the radar, and will often forfeit their freedom. Your very aspirations are what created the difficult situation in which you now find yourself. Your create your own shackles, my boy."

_'The best are sought by those that want the best...'  
_  
_Just like Aiber hounds Lawliet, a superior detective. Just like I seek Lawliet, because I sense he is more worthwhile than anyone else. Just like Misa chases me, as in her head, I am a physical ideal. And despite my lack of enthusiasm for her, I played my part well, convincingly - and still do.  
_  
"I'll give you some time to mull it over," the Chairman said. "See if you still have the ability to get it up for her after all this time goofing off with a dead end. You're dismissed."

Raito bowed and showed himself out.

He walked down the hall with his usual purposeful stride, but he was seeing nothing. Sick. His head was brimming with this sick feeling and it was escaping down into his rioting stomach with every faked smile to passers-by. He was being social on automatic pilot. It was ingrained in his being. Was the Chairman correct in that he was too good at this? No one suspected he was disturbed and seething with these monstrous feelings. No one would look at him and know anything more than what he showed on the surface. No one knew how he loathed Misa.

He could spend his life in the cage of another role that he himself had crafted just because he wasn't sure what to do!

Hearing something faintly that sounded like his name, he stopped and turned.

Hal had been trotting after him, cursing her stupid high heels (her words, as she took the final steps to reach him). "Raito, couldn't you hear me?" she panted, slightly winded. "I've been trying to catch you since you passed my office down the hall. Is something wrong?"

He looked into her eyes and lied. "No, nothing is wrong. Why?"

She looked a little taken aback. "Well, you didn't seem to hear me, so I thought..."

"Everything's fine. I'm just in a hurry." Hal was one of the few people that had ever seen through him. Hal, his mother, and Lawliet.  
_  
God. Lawliet.  
_  
There was a feeling, like a blade twisting in his gut...

_What the fuck am I going to do?_

He turned around and resumed his steady beeline for the door. He knew he was expected to stay in the office for the remainder, but he was preciously close to losing to the maelstrom in his head. He needed to speak to Lawliet. This concerned him, after all.

Strange, but it was almost like, _for the first time_, he was feeling the need to share a problem with another person. It was utterly out of character for him. Who was better equipped to solve his own problems than himself? Why put stock in others when they lacked the finer details, and possibly also the mental horsepower to see everything in its entirety and from the proper angles? Why did he feel the desperate need to broach this to the detective and to ask his opinion on the matter? The very fact that the matter involved him was sure to color his response. But Raito couldn't shake the feeling. It was... persistent.

Raito made it to his car and slipped inside, hands shaking upon the wheel. His mind was racing, yet felt empty. Was he in shock? It was unusual that he could not decide upon a course of action instantaneously. It was equally odd for him to be unable to discern whether he was upset, angry, or something else entirely. He felt like his mind had suffered a blast and the ashes were still floating to the floor like dirty snow.

He found his phone in his hand then, and remembered the message he'd heard hit his phone earlier. He saw that he had a text._Lawliet._

It read:  
_  
'I've given this a lot of thought, and the conclusion I've come to is that I need some space. I'd like you to refrain from contacting me in any way until further notice. If you can do this, it may serve to repair some of the faith I've lost in you. If you cannot, I regret to say that I will not be able to see going through with our previous agreement as anything more than a mistake.  
L'  
_

The trickle of hope he'd felt, when thinking of speaking to Lawliet, died and lodged itself inextricably in his throat. If he'd felt shell-shocked before, it was nothing compared to how he felt now.

_(It's not like he broke up with you),_a small part of him said.

_((Not yet, anyway.))_  
_  
He's lost his faith in me?_

I agree that I took things too far, but...

Raito tilted his seat back and closed his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing. He didn't trust himself to drive just yet. If he was honest, he was feeling completely and utterly overwhelmed. On all accounts, his hands were bound. He was not the master of his own future. He was awaiting judgment and a sentence.

...but to be forbidden contact... that was the sort of extreme that might lead to a severing of ties, was it not?

"Fuck," he whispered in the confines of the car, pulling his hands over his eyes.

Days, weeks, who knew how long Lawliet wanted to carry out this sentence? But how long did he have until the Chairman blew his whistle?

Not only would he be unable to stay with the detective and make sure Aiber did not have the chance to pull anything, he couldn't even warn Lawliet of it now. Even if he wanted to swallow his own scheming and admit all that had happened - just to make sure Lawliet was prepared - he couldn't. He would jeopardize everything. And not only that! He had no way to make known to Lawliet that something big had just occurred that could change everything. Any contact would nullify the remainder of Lawliet's goodwill towards him.  
_  
I've shown myself to be too unstable and reactive... _he thought. _He's testing me to see if I am worthy of his trust. He's testing my restraint._

Raito could not really fault him for it, but _damn it_! The timing was horrible!

He would have to come to a decision on his own then. To choose Lawliet over his career and still run the risk of being rejected or having the relationship burn down around them... Or to choose his career - his quest for power - the only constant in his life and the only thing he'd wanted before meeting Lawliet at the bar that night.

If he wasn't with Lawliet, did it really matter who he was with? Wouldn't it feel just as empty? Would it not be better to choose the safer option? The one that he'd been working towards all this time, rather than throwing it all away on the off-chance that he _**hadn't**_ screwed everything up with the only person he'd ever wanted to be with this badly?

* * *

L sat at his desk, typing away on his laptop, absently marking this as the second day he had not maintained any sort of contact with Raito. Oddly enough, he found that for all the lack of seeing or speaking with the brunet, his thoughts fell upon him not infrequently and he would almost say that he felt at a loss. But this move had seemed necessary, something to prove that this relationship was not a failed endeavor.

He had been much more productive in his work - happy to leave behind the cloying confusion and the riot of feelings that Raito inspired. It was all too easy and reassuringly familiar to fall into his cases and abandon all human contact. It was soothing. It was a world that made sense.

But underneath all of that was the tweaking of the unresolved. And for all his new-found presence of mind, what he failed to ascertain was whether or not it would be _good _for him to initiate contact again.

Three days had been his plan. At least. Just enough time to show his displeasure, his anger, and to prove to himself that the brunet was capable of respecting his wishes even above his own whims. Certainly, when he'd decided upon this action, he'd been angry and had felt utterly compromised... but those feelings had begun to wane. And with the absence of such emotional responses, which were standard fare when Raito was around, he saw the first opportunity he'd had since meeting Raito to seriously, rationally contemplate the function of the brunet in his life.

Of course, there was the issue he'd stumbled upon when he'd realized he loved the brunet... and he still did. But he was leery of the irrational things those feelings had led him to do and those irrational behaviors of Raito's which he'd attempted to take in stride. He'd been functioning in such a compromised capacity... unable to gain solid footing, and eventually he'd been conditioned to think that it was normal. But it wasn't.

He needed to weigh the merits of essentially being a shut in, versus the benefits and drawbacks of having Raito in his life - and all of the madness that came with that. It had been stressful, to say the least. Not only dealing with the brunet, but dealing with the other man's workplace and all of the people, and with the Aiber situation which had only coalesced after his acquaintance with the brunet.

And what of the strong feelings he had for Raito... how beneficial were they when they so often caused him pain? How frequently had he felt peace at the brunet's side? Was it not more common that he'd felt as if he were caught in a gale, holding on for survival?

Which would be more mad? To let the chaos overtake him? Or to let the still waters of his isolation be his grave?

* * *

It was the dawn of the fourth day, and Raito did not suffer himself to eat. He'd awoken before his alarm again, and had spent the time staring up at the dark ceiling of his bedroom, trying not to think. He'd eventually risen and taken a shower, moving like a ghost.

Coffee was the only tedium he bothered with, deeming it necessary enough to his morning routine as was bathing and dressing. He was drinking the coffee now, black, standing at the counter instead of sitting on the couch as was his custom. That had been an exercise in relaxation... He didn't want that right now. He was agitated. Restless.

He hated waiting.

He despised it, and he hated that he had no say in when this sentence would be lifted. Surely his crimes had not been so great as to warrant this? What was Lawliet trying to prove?

Time was running out. He felt it in his very bones. Today, something would give.

He was nearly dreading work now. The Chairman had remained behind the scenes, taking a special joy in holding the axe over his neck and watching him squirm. It was only a matter of time. But he wasn't ready. He was no closer to a decision, and Lawliet had still refrained from contact, so he had no way to disclose the situation to him. He would have to act on his own.

* * *

Raito held out his arm to Misa and felt his face form an enigmatic smile he did not feel. This was his first task. To take Misa out as he had when they'd been together. To _'not disappoint'_ her.

He felt completely abandoned, the feeling of Lawliet fading from him like cooling water. He was left to a life he'd previously taken pains to escape, only to find himself right back in the same place again. Misa glowed at him, and he felt empty. Emptier than he ever had before. When would Lawliet come back to him and free him from this? When would he get to look into those dark eyes again and feel that fervor for life rush inside of him? Why did everything seem so pointless now?

'Let others into my bed'... That notion was pretty laughable now. Who would he care to invite? Who would ever be able to engage him as fully and as passionately as the detective?

Oh, he could invite them, but he wondered how well he would perform when he couldn't get his mind off of Lawliet.

"Raito?" Misa nudged him back to the present.

"Yes?"

They'd spent a mind-numbing evening together - dinner and a movie Raito had paid no attention to. He wanted to be done with the affair. He felt more tired than he had in years. Maybe because he hadn't been sleeping well.

She leaned across the backseat of the car and kissed him. He felt nothing. No interest, no irritation. Just a lack of feeling.

His arms reluctantly folded around her as he kissed her back, playing the role he might have to get used to. He missed Lawliet. Missed the feel of his mouth and his quick wit. Missed his attentive eyes that rarely missed a thing, missed the challenge of interacting with him and the adrenaline rush when he'd pulled a fast one or the insomniac had played into his hands. He missed the feel of running his fingers through soft, dark jags of hair.

What was this inferior mouth that was pressed to his? These too-full lips that tasted of strawberry lip gloss, the faint smell of pressed makeup powder, and hair that was pulled back tight into an expensive hairdo... it was all at odds with what he wanted.

But this wasn't about him, was it? It was about Lawliet and what Lawliet wanted.

And if Lawliet didn't want him anymore, than this was what he would be looking forward to.

She pulled back, slightly out of breath and said, "Raito, can I?"

She asked, but she didn't really pause for his answer, her hands already settling upon his slacks. He made a half-hearted attempt to force his body to react with even a fraction of the interest he did not feel.

He did not want to do this here (or anywhere, for that matter) but she'd always liked this sort of thing in cars. It was puzzling.

"Raito, please let me," she said, confusing him. He looked down and saw that his hand had closed upon hers, preventing her from proceeding.

"What about Aiber?" he asked, knowing full well she did not care for him nearly as much as she lusted after himself.

"You know you're the only one for me," she pouted. "And daddy said that you were mine tonight, that you were finally going to make things up to me the way you always promise to. Was that a lie, Raito?"

His hand fell away from hers. "Of course it wasn't." He forced a smile to his lips, and tried to think of something erotic before she continued.

It was only after she'd put her mouth on him that he succeeded, but only because he thought of the first time Lawliet had done this with him.

How different that was from this.

Misa had skill, but it was empty.

Lawliet himself had hesitated, lips trembling slightly as he'd taken Raito into his mouth. He'd been a little clumsy as he felt his way along, but was quick to adjust.

It had felt so..._ hot_ and _perfect _to be held in that intense, petulant mouth and to know his partner's wish to please him despite his lack of experience. It had made him feel warm to his core, and it was hard imagine anything more pleasurable than that.

Lawliet, with his endlessly dark eyes, wild hair and that streak of stubbornness and independence that fed into Raito's desire to conquer him... Raito loved the game of it, cornering the detective until he had no choice but to fold. He loved those flickers of resentment and uncertainly that sometimes surfaced in his gaze before being swept away by the touch of hands and lips, and giving in.

How could he want someone like Misa who sought nothing more than to control him? Her entire world was meant to entrap his, so he would be brought to his knees and made to wallow in dirt like a beast. Not only her, but her father as well... and even his own career, he thought at times.

Lawliet had never really sought to control him. Maybe he attempted to guide Raito's actions at certain points, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't nearly so constricting. If anything, he'd say that the detective sought to coexist with him. As equals.

He wasn't quite sure how the dynamic lived in Misa's head where she both idolized him and looked up to him and yet felt herself worthy to ensnare him. Was she so confident in her looks that she believed herself to be the only logical choice for him? Had she and her father seen their breakup as merely an act of rebellion which could be waited out?

_Had_ he merely been rebelling?

For if there was no sort of future to be had with the detective, was the Amane family's goal not in line with his own? The Chairman would continue to provide enough support to give him power. Misa on his arm would give him status. He _would_ be trapped, in a way, but at the same time, he would be achieving the very things he'd set out to accomplish in the first place. Perhaps it was folly to want to do it on his own? A noble idea, yes, but did it make sense in practice?

How far had he even gotten on his own? He'd thought he'd made substantial progress, and yet... a few words from the Chairman proved it could all come crashing down. It was just a pretty illusion.

A hard, cold knot was forming somewhere deep within his chest.

Was this all that life had to offer him? It felt cheap. How useless all his hard work felt right now. What was pride worth when the only way to get ahead was not by your own merit, but by someone else's favor?

He would love to pose this question to the detective, to present to him this situation, to study his face as he considered it. The whirring of his mind would be palpable, enticing. His dark head would tilt in thought and the angle might make the smudges beneath his eyes vanish for a moment, making him flawless. Raito had caught himself wondering at times if Lawliet was really the insomniac those bruises claimed him to be. He slept well enough at Raito's side and they had hardly been parted these last several weeks, yet the marks were as dark as ever.

He clenched his fist tightly, unaccustomed to the burning in his chest that was starting to accompany thoughts of the insomniac. _Is there really no future with you?_

* * *

It had been an entire week now, Raito acknowledged in the back of his mind as he walked up the steps to _Le Foie Gras_. A week since he had last heard from Lawliet, and his hope for the situation was slowly suffocating. His expensive shoes made a smart clack upon the concrete that sounded precise, business-like and authoritative.

He was dressed to the nines and about to engage in hours of drinking, eating, and negotiations. He'd been given another chance and the Chairman would be watching his performance intently. It seemed that the Amanes were pleased with him on the whole, mostly due to his newfound willingness to oblige Misa.

The funny thing was, in his time with her, he almost felt as if he were trying to punish himself. It wasn't like him to be masochistic, and yet he was slipping deeper into the charade and living mostly through the masks he was wearing to the point of being destructive. He was obliterating his true self with his actions, purposely crushing it. And it wasn't just with Misa. He was playing any part that was asked of him, putting his energy into that, perhaps, as an alternative to dwelling in his own mind, unpleasant place that that was of late.

Given his preference, once sitting down, he'd rather just drink. He wasn't very hungry.

He opened the door with a flourish, knowing that there is always someone watching the doorway and that it was never wise to lose a chance to make an impression, no matter who it was with. He had the appropriate expression, demeanor, and stride to practically ooze importance and self-possession. He was quite aware of heads turning as he made his way to the table his associates occupied.

The open chair was beside Misa who was dressed like a supermodel, or a rather daring princess. Her hair was piled atop her head, as usual when she was trying to look fancy. It was a successful endeavor. There were sparkles of diamonds studding the elegant pile of blonde curls, and her bare shoulders were a perfect frame for it and the solitaire she wore at her throat, hanging from a rounded band of white gold that looked nearly like a collar. He paused to ghost a kiss across her cheek as he pulled out his chair with all the manner of a dapper gentleman, and he sensed the ripple it caused in the assembled persons. There were scattered low murmurs. Approval. He took his seat and exuded self-confidence with a winsome smile, meeting the eyes of everyone in attendance in a broad sweep before kicking off the start of negotiations like a born leader.

* * *

Even if Raito had not been there to witness his success with the assembled VIPs for himself, he could have easily seen it in shine of the Chairman's eyes and the adoration that poured off of his daughter. Another indication might have been her hand on his thigh, but he chose to ignore the implications of that for the time being. They were just serving the 2nd course now. Raito, still having no appetite, decided to order one of the more expensive things on the menu and a top-shelf wine to accompany it. He had them bring the bottle to the table just after the first course. His smiles were flawless, but he felt agitated inside. He wanted something with which he could smooth that away.

He'd slowly sipped his first glass of the white wine, but by now, business was nearly over and the others were beginning to partake of their own drinks of choice. His indulgence would not be so obvious now. He poured a second glass and drank it as fast as he dared, wanting to drown out the dissonance resonating in his chest.

He needed to focus on how well things were going. He should be enjoying this - his success.

Within his pocket, his phone buzzed.

Misa was asking him something and he pulled it out, answering distractedly but with his professional tone. He hoped it wasn't Mikami. That guy had been a royal pain. The Chairman had decided to have them work together on several projects the last few days, and though his cooperation had bought him the upper hand in decisions on those projects, Mikami liked to challenge him at every turn. He'd also taken to calling Raito at inopportune moment such as this. Yes, on purpose.

He almost didn't hear the voice on the other end, though his movements froze instinctively as if all the better to focus on the caller and drown out all of the background noise and the inconsequential people nearby.

Had he heard correctly?

"Yes, this is Raito," he responded, poised. He was certain of it, somehow, that this was in fact Lawliet. He hardly dared breathe for fear it would spook the other man. He waited for a response.

There was silence on the other end, a silence in which Raito felt he wanted to lodge steel hooks into the caller and rake him in, something, anything to keep him on the line, to make him speak, to keep him present. _**Damn you**__, Lawliet._

That _restlessness_ in him sharpened to a razor's point and he knew what it was waiting for. He knew what that gnawing was at the center of his being and he resented the other for it. The frustration, the need to _possess_...

"Raito?" Misa inquired softly, no doubt noticing the change in his demeanor which he was rapidly losing control of.

"You sound like you're busy," came the monochromatic reply.

That infuriating sort of response... The evasion and dismissal; it burned so familiarly and nostalgically. The sound of his voice...

Raito's fist clenched upon the phone, his heart racing in his chest with the need to bring Lawliet under his sway again, to be face-to-face, to interact with him in real time, to hear his voice in all manner of ways again. To hold that slim body and feel the very moment when resistance began to drain from it and those long, slender limbs. He wanted to hold him and tear him apart. It was such a strong feeling that it bordered on aggression. Violence.

"I'm not." He waved Misa off, wishing she would just stop speaking and let him focus on something that was actually _important_. He excused himself from the table, quickly turning his back on it, unable to tell just how far his performance had been slipping and unwilling to challenge luck further. "What is the reason for your call?" He began moving through the restaurant, heading for the door. He needed no witnesses to this conversation.

There was another long pause. "Perhaps it is more unimportant than I originally thought," the detective said quietly.  
_  
__**Un-**__important? _Raito was astounded. Insulted. _When just the sound of your voice can do this to me? Are you lifting your sentence or are you continuing it indefinitely?_He kept his voice in check, however. He didn't want to fight, he wanted to make an appeal.

"Lawliet-"

"I'm sorry," the detective said quickly, "it was my mistake."

And just like that, he was listening to a dial tone.

He stared blankly, the din of the restaurant like a blanket around him. He'd never even made it to the door. The call hadn't lasted long enough.

_That's it? One week and that is all you have to say to me?_! He was shell-shocked and couldn't get his wits about him. A waiter weaved around him. He was standing in the aisle way between tables and people were starting to stare. The din of the restaurant was suddenly rushing back into his consciousness. Clattering silverware, the drone of so many voices which overlapped and overran each other...

He closed his phone and pocketed it, making his way outside.

"_Damn it!_" he cursed once the doors shut safely behind him. "_Goddamn it!_" He wanted to put his fist through the wall, but not only was it concrete, there were still people outside to witness such an act of instability. He could not take liberties with his reputation. _What are you thinking?_ he railed mentally._ Goddamn it, Lawliet, why won't you just __**talk**__ to me?_

He had the urge, _seriously_ had the urge to leave and make his way to the detective's house where he could at least force a confrontation. Anything but this horrible limbo.

"Raito?"

Raito stiffened as he heard Misa's inquiring voice poking around the door that had just started to open. **Damage control**. He shoved all of the riotous feelings down, _down_, smothering and gagging them until they had no voice, locking them away as deeply and tightly as he could, and smoothing the ground that lay over top of them.

In their place was that stillness. That emptiness. But the ground was buckling.

He turned to her and made as if he were surprised. "Misa," he said in tones that were not displeased. _So begins the act once more. _The role was more stifling now. All the more, now, after having his masks ripped off and then forced back on again over bleeding flesh.

"Is everything ok? You looked a little strange after getting that call."

He smiled, chagrined. "I'm sorry to have worried you. It's nothing."

"Really?" she said in a small, hopeful voice, her eyes turning up at him as she stepped closer. He nearly laughed. She wanted him to feel compelled to comfort her. He knew she didn't need it, and what was even funnier is that he wasn't sure that _he _wasn't in need of some comfort himself. But what she really wanted was...

"Really," he assured her in a soft, intimate tone.

She snaked her arms around his waist and pressed close, tilting her face up to his, waiting for him to bestow a kiss upon them.

He complied, their mouths joining in a facsimile of passion, and the emptiness howled.

The greater it became, the more effort he put into making it louder. He floundered between hurt and rage, caught in a mental battle that was ripping him to pieces. He needed stability. Desperately. _I hate this. I __**hate**__ this!_

Misa responded to everything he did as she was unable to do otherwise. And it was too easy to pull her strings and render her senseless. It was pitiable, as if this was the one true power he still had. As if this were the only realm in which he could come out on top. And it grated against him every moment he persisted in it. But he lashed out at Lawliet through it. _See? You discard me at your whim and expect that no one else should want me in your place? _He made her want him and felt some satisfaction in getting back at Lawliet, though he knew the repercussions would only be unpleasant; he did not desire her, and it didn't really matter to him how much she desired him. He anticipated that, though... and even _wanted_ the disgust that bit back at him for doing it. It was despicable and something in him wanted to start laughing and never stop.  
_  
What am I doing?_

((_What __**are**__ you doing?_))

He was using all these ill feelings like stabilizers when, in reality, they were taking him apart piece by piece - deep beneath the layers of the false self he was breathing inside of. He was starting to lose track of what was supposed to be the real him. It was disintegrating under the barrage of his lies. It was near drowning and dark waters were trying to close over its head. _This isn't how it's supposed to be..._ Dissonance echoed through him dimly, like a harsh whispering at the edge of his thoughts. The acts were not meant to rule _him_, they were meant to rule others...

And yet, he was pushing that down as well. Couldn't think too much about all of that right now.

After a time, Misa pulled back, breathless, her cheeks glowing with the flush he'd inspired. Her hand traced down his side as she suggested they go somewhere more comfortable.

He felt as confused as he sounded when he said, "What about the dinner?"

"Daddy says the negotiations are pretty much finished. He said we could have the rest of the evening to ourselves if we wanted." Her hand was under his jacket, tracing his back as she leaned against him again. "He said you were amazing," she preened as if she could somehow own his accomplishment. "And you _are_," she breathed against his lips. "You're sooo amazing."

Raito felt the net he'd been growing more accustomed to this past week closing in on him.

"So why don't we get out of here and you can show me again just how _really_ amazing you can be," she said suggestively, pressing against him in a way that didn't leave much to the imagination.

* * *

L snapped his phone closed and sat there, unmoving, on the edge of his bed.

What had he thought would happen in his absence? Had he really believed that Raito would be true to him? Had he thought that Misa would vanish off the face of the earth, conveniently?

_What had I been hoping to accomplish here? Was I really just trying to punish him? And do I feel satisfied now?_

No.

The truth is, it feels worse than before.

He'd warred with himself over this. Back and forth. Fore and aft. He couldn't see reason. Raito had been out of the picture for even longer than intended but the original gain in perspective had soon been lost again. He'd thought it might improve in time, but time only made him think about Raito more. More and more until he was hardly thinking on anything else. The other day, Watari had actually suggested he go out and get some fresh air. How unlikely of him to say such a thing! But L could not argue that his initial run of productivity had suddenly faltered and sputtered out.

He'd thought of texting Raito, but for some reason, he'd instead felt compelled to call.

Raito's voice was sleek and shining when he answered. Full of life and confidence, and the din surrounding it only seemed to accentuate the effect. It was thoroughly intimidating.

He'd only just swallowed that down, trying to move past it and the fact that Raito seemed to be positively flourishing without him, when he'd heard _her_.

Almost as clearly as he could hear Raito, he could hear Misa. Which meant that she was very close and had likely even leaned closer for her lowered voice to carry so. She sounded so entitled, also, as if asking him what sort of useless trivial thing could possibly be taking his attention away from her.  
_  
'You sound like you're busy,'_he'd said, trying perhaps to end the call just then. But he knew he didn't want it to end like that. Despite everything, he still hoped that he meant something to the brunet, that he wasn't some passing fancy. That he hadn't stupidly ended everything by his own hand.

And then came the lie. 'I'm not.' Why would he act as if he were doing nothing more than lounging at home when it was obvious that he was in fact doing something that was keeping him quite busy?

It sounded so cold, what came next._ 'What's the reason for your call?'_

Wouldn't the reason have been obvious? Wasn't it painfully obvious? He'd lost the battle with himself, and he wanted to talk things out. He was willing to overlook what had happened, despite how messed up it was. He wanted to speak to Raito, see Raito, be saved from this restriction that he himself had put in place which was draining his will and energy. This punishment that was destroying his concentration more than Raito ever had.

Raito had become this... this overwhelming _need_. The only thing of utmost importance, and yet...

L brought his hand to his mouth and bit down onto the flesh of his palm, just under his thumb. This was absurd. _Ludicrous_. How had he ever thought that they could...?

Raito belonged in the spotlight. It was obvious and it made _sense_, and it was apparent in every detail of his life, his surroundings, his job...  
_  
And where in the hell was it that I was supposed to fit in? How illogical could I possibly be to have thought a relationship would work between us?_  
_He belongs with someone flashy, like Misa. Not someone like me. What do I even have to offer?_

_((He said he doesn't want Misa.))_that voice in the back of his head reminded him.

"Well, what if something changed?" he lashed out. "What then?"

The voice was uselessly silent.

"Figures," he spat. He hated feeling angry and self-deprecating. He wasn't used to it and it made him feel like he was going crazy.

He almost wanted to drink, to muss the feelings away, but he hadn't been able to stomach even the thought of alcohol since the motel. Even now he felt a pang in his chest at the way Raito had treated him that day. He had not appreciated it, and been so disturbed by the entire series of events, yet he couldn't get it out of his head that he _missed Raito_. And the double punch to the gut was trying to reconcile how someone who supposedly cared about you could possibly do something like that. They couldn't, could they?

He just... didn't know. The more he dwelled upon it, the more confusing it got.

He'd ended the phone call abruptly. He really had felt mistaken - in everything. And just hearing the brunet's voice made his chest ache.

_'Lawliet-'_

How often had he heard that name whispered in his ear or called out breathlessly in passion? How very many ways had he heard it spoken, yet it always sounded new and fresh and engaging on the brunet's lips. But just then it had been placating; it had sounded like something he did not want to hear was about to follow it.

"When did I become a coward?" he wondered aloud, falling back upon the bed and staring at the bland ceiling. His hand throbbed. He idly wished his teeth had been sharp enough to make it bleed. "Ugh!" he exclaimed, covering his eyes. "What's happened to me since I met you?"

* * *

TBC

**A/N 2: **THANK YOU, those who left me such wonderful reviews. I'm sorry I have been at a loss for time with which to respond, but I would hug you on sight. (Uh- if, you know... you're cool with that and all... *slowly edges away*).

Things have been kind of messed up for a while now and it's made it hard to write and also to write responses as I'd like to. ((Yeah, it's been one big ball o' JACKED UP.)) Know though, that I treasure each little impression or comment or speculation you throw my way. Truly. It keeps me going. And some special love goes out to my repeat reviewers. You know who you are!

* * *

The song that goes with this chapter is by Saves the Day. The title is "Monkey" but I'm sure you can see why I couldn't very well make that the chapter title! Lol! If you have never heard this song off of the In Reverie album, do it. For now though, here are the lyrics:

MONKEY  
**  
Hello me,  
are you in there?  
making sure you're not dead  
smelled some rotting flesh**

I heard you left him alone  
suns up with open roads  
get down  
freak out  
the time is right now

Drop your things  
and burn your clothes  
why we're here  
no one knows  
watch the bombs explode

He sold you a dream  
and carved you up like meat  
lay down  
the law  
locked your heart behind bars

While you were sleeping he would whisper in your ear

The monkey will bite  
better eat your poultry  
till' theres no use  
don't try to  
ask a doctor  
what's going on inside your head  
just fall out and get in line  
like all good soldiers do

You I woke to his games  
runnin circles in your brain  
cant believe your eyes

What's up what is down  
he spun you around  
what's near what is far  
god knows what you are  
can you remember when  
this began

The monkey will bite  
better eat your poultry  
till there's no use  
don't try to  
ask you doctor  
what's going on inside your head **  
**_**it's pretend  
it's no meaning  
just stare at the ceiling and play dead for your whole life  
**_**  
**You can listen to the song on youtube. (Type in: saves the day monkey. the result by debaser420 is pretty good. Just the song, and the vid is the lyrics. But you could ignore the vid altogether if you want - that's how I usually listen to music on there. ^^) It is definitely one where the cadences and way it is sung will deliver a lot more than the lyrics alone ever could. Plus, that whole album is awesome.


	23. Comeuppance

**PITCH**

* * *

Light x L

* * *

Part 23

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

**A/N: **I am so tired right now.

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 23: (Comeuppance)

Sachiko was straightening up the kitchen that night. It was late, and not exactly the sort of thing she wanted to do at this very moment, but things needed done and she was hoping to gain a little extra time tomorrow morning because of it.

She felt better having packed the lunches for the next day, and getting the mess of dishes under control, but there were so many things she'd rather have done instead.

Soichiro was out tonight. After dinner he'd had to run back to the station to work on a case that was in the critical stages. He grumbled about it and the hours, but she knew that he loved his work and would never have picked another career, given the chance to do things all over again.

She idly wondered if her son felt the same way, or if her daughter would as well, once she determined what she would be doing with her life. The girl seemed somewhat frivolous at the moment and more preoccupied with boys than she should be if she wanted to excel in her studies...

Sachiko shrugged to herself. She couldn't say that either of her children had turned out quite as she or Soichiro had expected. But as long as they stayed out of trouble and led happy lives, she would be content. She felt no need to dictate their decisions or criticize their choices. Her husband, on the other hand... he seemed unable to leave Raito alone. It was borne from his disappointment, she was sure. He'd often, when they had first married, talked of having a son that would follow in his footsteps. He liked the idea of having a family tradition of law enforcement, and wanted it to start with them.

She supposed it was a nice notion, just like a family of doctors, or florists, or whatever the profession happened to be, but Raito seemed set on rebelling against it at every turn. It wasn't as if law enforcement wouldn't suit him. She suspected that it actually would have, and quite well, but her son was headstrong and was perfectly willing to fight against her husband's dream tooth and nail.

Soichiro was convinced that everything Raito did was only done to embarrass him or make him angry.

She wiped down the last counter in the dim room which was illuminated only by the light over the stove.

She had no idea why Raito did some of the things he did. But she could see where her husband got his impressions. It was like her boy had been born to be at odds with his father. They just could not see eye-to-eye.

Giving the kitchen another once over, she thought she heard the sound of a car in the driveway.  
_  
Odd. Soichiro should be gone for hours yet. _She wiped her hands on a dish towel to dry them and headed towards the door. Her ears picked up a faint, feminine voice, then the closing of a car door. _Sayu?_ Well, that would be odder still. She rarely visited during the week due to classes.

She looked out the small window in the door and caught two silhouettes in the headlights. They came partway up the walk and then the taller one motioned the other away. The shorter one made no move to do so until the taller one bent to kiss them. Afterwards, the taller one came up the walk.

She heard the jingling of keys, and decided to just open the door for her son and let him know that she had seen.

He looked up as she did so, keys in his hands as if he didn't know quite what to do with them. "Good evening, mother."

"Good evening," she responded, swinging the door open for him to come in. "To what do I owe such an unorthodox visit?"

He smiled at her, shaking his head as if she'd said something ridiculous, and yet it looked all wrong. He waltzed in as if he always came at this time of night, during the week, when in reality, they'd rarely seen him over the last several years until he'd taken up with L. She certainly hadn't minded the change. If anything, she was convinced that the boyish, dark-haired detective would be a good influence on him.

"If my visiting is an inconvenience, I can go. I don't want to put you out." He looked around. "Is father out?"

"Yes, he's working on a case."

There was a strangely disapproving look that ghosted over her son's face, but it was gone again in a moment.

"Let me look at you, Raito," she said, turning him this way and that as she took in the fancy attire. "Were you working as well?"

Another strange look crossed his face, gone in a heartbeat, before he smiled. "Do you like it? It's not everyday we have a meeting with such important clients."

"I suppose not," she agreed. By the feel and the cut of the clothes, they easily could have cost as much as a month of their income - something Soichiro would not have hesitated to comment on disapprovingly. He never missed a chance to critique Raito's line of work. "Is that why Misa was with you?" She studied his face openly and watched in surprise as he turned away from her.

"I thought I'd stay here tonight. Is that ok with you?"

"Of course, dear." She might have asked why, as he had not stayed the night in this house since he had gone overseas, but he had already started towards his room. She truly did not mind him staying - it was the very reason she kept his room for him - but everything about this was... odd.

She stood there, contemplating the dashing figure her son cut in his expensive clothes, and the smile that, like on television, looked too bright to be contained in one room. He was grown now, and had chosen his path. He'd made any number of decisions, and had never gone back on a single one that she knew of... until now. Why on earth would he have been kissing Misa? He'd decided long ago that they were not compatible. He'd endured the confusion of his parents and the harping of his sister, all who thought she seemed perfect for him, yet he had patiently insisted that things were over between them. For good. He never gave a reason.

She heard the shower running a moment later, and decided that when he was finished, she would go talk to him.

* * *

Raito dried his hair mechanically, kicking the clothes he'd been wearing further into the corner. His mother was wondering what he was doing here. Not that she minded his presence; he knew that to be true.

He wasn't quite sure himself what he was doing in coming here, except that it meant Misa couldn't follow him in to spend the night as she would have at his place, or hers. But it was more than that.

Perhaps... he was hoping to talk.

Insane, was it not?

He ran the towel over his body, rubbing it dry more vigorously than necessary. He rather detested talking about himself, and just now, he really wanted to be left alone. So why was he sure that talking was a motivation in coming here?

He wrapped the towel around his waist and walked down the hall to his room. There were not a lot of clothes here anymore, but there were a few. Just enough to be inviting. Just enough to provide for any needs he may have if he'd ever chosen to stay the night. And he had not done so since leaving the country.

How long now had she been keeping this room for him, his mother? He'd never told her to, and yet, just now, he felt selfish and negligent and entitled that he had never told her _not _to.

He pulled some clothing out of the drawers. It was clothing from his old life. Nothing fancy, just things that fit the function without causing an excess bleeding of money from the bank. Plain grey cotton pants he could sleep in. A plain black t-shirt, a little tighter now across his shoulders - more fitted upon his lean frame than it had been a few years ago.

He opened the blinds so that light could come in from outside, and turned off the overhead light. The bed seemed smaller than he remembered, but that was due to the size of the one he used now. He sat down upon it, moving back so he could lean against the wall, letting his eyes adjust to the mixed illumination of moonlight and streetlights.

His thoughts were tumultuous at this moment. And they would have followed him no matter where he'd decided to lay his head for the night.

Since that phone call at the restaurant, nothing had gone right. He wasn't thinking clearly and he knew it. Someone had to put on the breaks, but no one was there to do it. He seemed unable and was just going with the flow around him, completely out of his head.

Coming here... why had he? What was the point? Only he knew the map of events that had led him here, and all he could hope for in disclosing any of it was judgment.

Despite this, he felt a little better being in his old room. _Sentimentality, Raito? _He laughed at himself. It was ridiculous, considering it was him.

* * *

The soft knock at the door did not surprise him overly much. "Come in," Raito said, pasting a sonly smile on his face though his mother might not see it in the faint light.

She came into the room, stopping at the edge of the bed. Her hands were on her hips as she looked down at him with bewilderment. "What were you doing kissing Misa?" There was a definite edge lurking in her voice.

His hackles went up, but he did not let it show. It was a valid question, after all. "So you saw that, did you?"

Funny, he found that not only did he not want to talk about it, it was quite possibly the LAST thing he would have wanted to have to talk about just now.

"Raito..." she warned. He could almost hear the tapping of her foot. Impatient. Knowing he was evading her question and calling him on it. _Tap. Tap. Tap._

Where _had_ that desire to talk gone? In its place, he was feeling trapped. Edgy. He did not know how to proceed, or if he could, or even if he _should_.

Irritation was starting to leak in and it was a sign he was starting to think too much. Guilt was starting to seep in as it had so many times this week, and anger was quick on its heels. How had he done what he had done in that motel room, and without batting an eye? That made him monstrous, did it not?

And that was what drove this feeling, this need to erase the guilt of what he had done to Lawliet by topping it with something worse, to rebel against that guilt with everything in his power. Accepting that guilt meant to accept blame. Accepting blame meant that he was in the wrong, and that label of 'monstrous' that rose to the fore. It was ill-fitting, blinded him, made him angry. It twisted his thoughts and made him determined to _**earn**_ that title, if he was to bear it. If he was to feel guilty, he might as well earn that guilt. If Lawliet was to look at him with accusatory eyes, he wanted to have been _reprehensible_. That was preferable to having lost control, having regrets and being unable to make amends.

But wasn't it also something less inspired? Wasn't he allowing things to happen that he _did not want at all_, merely to see how much it took before he really lost it? Wasn't he just being self-destructive and devaluing himself for the sake of something he didn't quite understand? Offering some sort of penance, masochistically, though nothing of the sort had been asked of him? It was like a downward spiral. For as bad as things became, he was compulsively making it worse. He felt as if everything were out of his control and the least he could do was make a contribution to his own chaos.

Like now. He was about to do it again. And there was the kick of adrenaline as he stood at the brink of it. He waved off her question and looked her in the eye.

"I slept with Misa," he said point blank. He felt sick and giddy all at once, and all that scrubbing had still not removed the unwanted feel of it from his skin! He looked at her with an impartial expression. Unrepentant. His skin was raw with how hard he'd scrubbed.

And would he not do it again? Punish himself with things he did not want, proving to himself that this was probably how he would spend the rest of his life without Lawliet? Even now it was so muddled as to whether he was trying to get back at the detective or get back at himself. He oscillated too wildly between feeling vindicated and feeling aggrieved that he really was ceasing to make sense of it all.

"You WHAT? What about L?"

Was it sick that he translated her appalled reaction into how he wished Lawliet to react if he knew? That he gained some sort of satisfaction that Lawliet would be upset over such a thing? That for all his running away, he still fucking cared about things like this?

Raito smiled pleasantly, feeling a total disconnect. "What about him?"

_(Monster.)_

He took in her horrified reaction, reveled in it as much as he feared he was letting things go too far, maybe wanting her at last to see him as some sort of messed-up individual and not just her precious son. He supposed he _was_ feeling destructive. _And this was the son you held on to for so long. _He thought at her as they stared back at one another. _This was the son you kept this room so long for. _Even in his head, his voice sounded like a sneer._ Are you proud, mother?_

Her expression darkened and he waited for the blow. "You** must** be blind," she snapped out at him, "because I _know _you're not stupid."

Stupid? She'd never dared to utter such a thing to him before. Indignation rose up and over the other feelings, breaking the spell. He felt a very ordinary glare take residence upon his face.

"Why on earth would you jeopardize things with him?" She railed at him. "He makes you happy, I can see it. Though I can't say he deserves the likes of_ you_, what with how you're acting."

He'd never seen her like this. He wasn't quite sure how to act. "Thank you, mother," he said drolly, "it's nice to know that you'll always be on my side." Sarcasm seemed fitting.

She moved forward in a flash and smacked him. It stung, but judging by the fire in her eyes, she'd wanted to hit him much harder. "Stop being a spoiled, melodramatic brat," she demanded vehemently, "and tell me what's going on."

The challenge was too hard to resist. He wanted to meet her disapproval with the full scale of his crimes. Still nihilistic, he supposed. He lowered his masks, eyes slanting at her. He'd never shown her what lurked beneath. He'd always been rather convinced she would be appalled and leave him where he stood.

His hands fisted briefly where they lie upon the bedspread then relaxed.

"Are you sure you're up for that?" he said seriously, dropping his standard tones, and using his true voice. His eyes glinted in the darkness. No fluff here. No parts to play. He supposed the time had come where he just wanted to see what she would do, and damn the consequences.

Their gazes locked, assessing each other, engaged in a way that was dissimilar to any other time. Her face was tight, but he could not quite discern what the feeling behind the expression was. _What are you thinking, Mother?_The tension was holding steady, much like the silence between them.

Finally, something gave. She narrowed her eyes at him. "If you think I'd never noticed what you've been playing at all these years, you're sorely mistaken." Her voice sounded irritated. "I raised you, Raito, I saw these masks when they were but fragile children's playthings." She gave him a look that said she was offended that he had overlooked her powers of perception. And, for the first time, he noticed a slight strain in her face. How much was bravado? Could he undermine that or should he leave it be?

"Touché, mother of my heart."

It was quite sarcastic, he'd admit. But he'd never seen her like this and he felt the need to test his boundaries. If she was pushing herself in order to deal with him, or if this was an unveiling, he wanted to know.

"Get on with it, my precious, stupid son."

_So starts the name-calling. Interesting. _He'd earned it, though, and he really would have had to be stupid if, as by her estimation, he'd never noticed she could see the real him. But he _had _seen it. He just hadn't known the extent of it and couldn't exactly bring it up.

His intrigue with this new dynamic got his mouth moving. "I have found myself in a quandary at work." He watched her fixedly as he spoke. "I overstepped my bounds by some miscalculations on my part and now I am faced with an ultimatum. Something that will greatly impact both L and myself, if we are indeed still a couple. Only I have been disallowed the pleasure of communication with him at present."

She crossed her arms and just looked at him. "Translation," she prompted.

"I'm a depraved human being who has possibly screwed up the one relationship I ever cared about."

She looked somewhat startled. He imagined any mother might react that way hearing her son call himself depraved. It was a rather evocative word after all, though appropriate.

"Was this screw up before, after, or during the Misa thing?" she asked, re-securing her stern face.

"Are you assuming it's entirely my fault?" he accused her sharply. He'd practically announced his transgression just a moment before, certainly, but he didn't appreciate her assumption. She had yet to know _anything_. The fight, the words exchanged, and all the many things that led up to what happened... all of it was _not_his fault. There was blame to share.

"You look guilty as sin. I don't see much wiggle room here."

He frowned, unable to argue with what was probably a most accurate assessment. It was how he himself felt about it off and on anyway. "Before the Misa thing," he said shortly. "Which was brought on by the work thing, which was brought on by me pushing things too far with L."

For some reason, he felt like recent events were being trivialized by her open manner and her lack of abandoning him in disgust. It bugged him, this acceptance. Was it real? Did she truly _understand_?

"We were fighting, Mother, and have been doing so over certain topics for some time now." He sounded conversational, even to his own ears. It was totally wrong for this. "I'd never known myself to feel so incensed by someone else before, not like this." She nodded gravely, and waited for him to continue.

"I decided to level the playing field in my own way." He couldn't quite believe he was telling her this. What would it accomplish? But his mouth was still moving and part of him wanted to display the transgression to her, to see how she would react, to see what her moral compass showed him. "I drove us to a remote location, to a motel, where I proceeded to bind him to the bed, threaten him physically, and attack him psychologically." His tone turned self-deprecating as he said the last, "Then I violated and taunted him, all the while ignoring the voice in the back of my head that told me, _'maybe this isn't such a good idea'_."

She looked at him with a blank expression and it was remarkably like the one he'd seen on Lawliet.

He added by way of explanation, not remorsefully, but bluntly, "I was jealous and I felt like things were falling apart. I couldn't do anything but what I did." 

((What do you think of your son now?))

She nodded, not condoning his actions, but reserving judgment for the time being. It was somewhat infuriating. Still, she looked less than pleased. "And how does that tie to work?"

"I left early yesterday and was unreachable until today," he said flippantly, "being preoccupied as I was."

Her lips twisted. "Indeed."

He crossed his arms. "I also thwarted an attempted assault upon L's person the other night." It was easier to focus on the anger he felt at this particular piece of the story, than to keep himself open as he'd had to in relaying the things with Lawliet. She'd lost her chance to strike at the heart of him. "It's a detective he worked with in the past that is now the Chairman's pet project. I tied him up and left him in Lawliet's closet for them to pick up. The background is that Aiber, that's the man's name, is being groomed for my previous position and is currently seeing Misa."

He was starting to feel restless, his eyes began to dart about the room. Divulging information was not an easy task for him, and it had not escaped him how... unorthodox his actions had been in some instances. Would she feel obliged to do something about him, her dysfunctional son? Surely his actions could be seen as criminal, dangerous, or unstable. Would her allegiance be to family or the common good?

He'd tried to sound like any normal young man speaking of work. Would it take the edge off?

What in the hell was he thinking to tell her all of this? Maybe she was humoring him and the very next thing she'd do would be to have him committed. He didn't like to think that of his own mother, but hearing himself talk of all of this... could anyone blame her?

Normal. He needed to go for normal now and mitigate the damages.

"Having everything happen in short succession made things a good deal more complicated. I forgot about a crucial meeting and missed it, the Chairman took me off of the entire affair and put _Mikami_ on it, of all people. Then he informed me that I would be able to voluntarily end employment, never to work in the field again, or I can take over for him when he retires and spend the rest of my life licking Misa's boots."

"Son," Sachiko said frankly, "I think you have been working in a very unhealthy environment."

"Understatement," he muttered, playing normal as if it were a violin, all of his cadences echoing it. The understated ranting and complaining about work, they were normal things that should blot out some of the other. "Though I thought I'd been making such progress..."

"I also think that you'll be lucky if L decides to speak to you again," she broke in.

His words faded from his lips and he felt his stomach drop out, hearing his ever-present fear voiced by his own mother.

Panic was a good estimation of the feeling jagging through him right now. He felt a sharp stab at his temple as it began throbbing. "Is that so?" he said lightly, the room spinning about him a little too energetically.

"You're thinking that if you have lost him already, you may as well make the move to save your career, aren't you?"

He'd closed his eyes but he could hear the frown in her voice. "Perhaps," he admitted cagily.

"And yet, you don't know in the first place whether or not he'd have it in his heart to forgive your **outrageous** behavior."

He nodded. Here was the judgment. Her disapproval was cutting. Surprisingly so. Maybe because it affirmed the guilt he'd already been feeling.

"Raito, you're my son, and I love you." She said the words as if they were a requirement she had to fulfill. "But it does not mean I will turn a blind eye to your actions. It does mean I will be truthful with you, because I think it is the truth that you need to hear."

She paused. "I think it would be unreasonable at this point to expect forgiveness. There was no excuse for what you did, no matter how justified you may have felt in it at the time."

His head started to pound, rebelling against her simple, logical words, disowning them. It was too easy for her to stand on the outside and say these things. It was so different on the inside. She did not know Lawliet like he did. She had not seen nor heard the interactions that began all this. She was being biased, but not in his favor. What had started out as a leveling with her, was beginning to make him feel caged. Hunted.

His hands closed upon themselves emptily.

Right now, the desire to seek Lawliet out, to chase him down and not allow him to back away was becoming too strong again. He wanted it so badly, wanted it with every fiber of his being. But he _refused_ to violate the conditions the detective had set. He refused to be the final, ruinous force upon their relationship.

"Anything else you would care to add, Mother?" it took a great effort to not sneer the words, to make them civil. That racing feeling in his chest was back - the one that had driven him to do oh so many things...

"Look at me," she said.

He complied, letting her see the war within him and his flagging restraint. She did not flinch back. Much.

"No matter what he decides, I think you would be better off to find work elsewhere." His mother sounded like she was trying to be comforting now. Funny, since she had been the one to set panic loose within him in the first place with her poorly chosen words. Her blunt, bleak proclamation had struck him worse than anything prior. "Not only would you be unhappy with Misa, you would be killing whatever chance you might have with L."

More of those blunt, brutal words. How could she think that she was mitigating her estimation that Lawliet could never forgive him, by referring to some fleeting, hopeless and maimed chance that all was not lost?

He took a breath and tried to consider what she was really trying to say to him, all that aside.

The death of his career. The end to years of hard work, years of enduring that which had to be endured, all to culminate into nothing. That would be its own kind of penance, would it not?

Raito felt a stillness fill him, a resolve that beat back his whirling thoughts, not a lot, but just enough. She was right, and they both knew it. She was wise, his mother.

"I'd like to be alone, now."

"As you wish," she said and quietly left the room.

* * *

TBC

**A/N 2: **There you go. Double chapter. Sorry it took so long. Man, I cannot WAIT for vacation!


	24. The Patriarch

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 24

* * *

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

**A/N: **Vacations are wondrous things. Why must they go by so fast though?

Thank you so much for reviewing. It means a lot to me and I greatly appreciate every word.

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 24: (The Patriarch)

Soichiro was having a rough morning. Not that he hadn't had rough mornings before, but this one came with a hefty dose of questions.

He looked over at his wife who was calmly eating breakfast. "Sachiko?"

"Yes, dear?"

He looked back at the table's additional occupant. "Correct me if I am wrong, but didn't we cease having a son that would sit here casually eating breakfast with us quite some years ago?"

Raito looked up, a sly cant to his eyes, seemingly toying with which way to respond.

It put Soichiro on edge. He never knew quite what to expect from his predictably unpredictable son. Just now, he was maintaining the visage of a wholesome, perfect-haired, _good_son. It had been a personal matter of irritation for him that Raito had honed that look to be so convincing when it was a total lie. The rotten kid could amount to so much if he would just apply himself properly. It was as if he revelled in doing the exact opposite of what his father wanted. At every turn. Was it spiteful? He honestly didn't know.

"Pass the syrup?" his recalcitrant son asked pleasantly, as if his being here was perfectly normal. He met his son's gaze, and while those eyes were largely the same as always, russet colored and challenging, there was something a little different. Raito smiled infuriatingly, and Soichiro thrust the syrup at him.

Really, whatever had possessed Raito to stay over last night? It had been quite a shock to wake up, come into the kitchen for coffee, and find his wife and son speaking over the coffee pot.

Apparently he wasn't supposed to inquire as to the details. The second he'd opened his mouth, his wife had shot him a warning glance.

He'd promptly closed it again. This many years of marriage would teach anyone to heed such looks or suffer the consequences.

"Are you going to work today?" he asked now, still impatient to get some vague clue as to what was going on. And it seemed that Raito was aware that Sachiko was not going to allow Soichiro to question him as he'd like. Hence his subtle vengeance this morning, acting like nothing was wrong and taunting his father with his smug attitude.

Raito leisurely cut a small triangle out of his pancakes, drizzled syrup upon just that bit and put it in his mouth. He chewed slowly and eventually shrugged, dragging out every movement until Soichiro thought even the stabilizing force of his second cup of coffee was not going to keep him from throttling the boy.

"Raito, answer your father verbally, dear."

"Yes, mum." He answered her aloud to be even more dismissive of his father before turning to him. Soichiro felt a vein in his temple throb in vexation. "I don't know yet, I'm thinking of quitting."

Soichiro said nothing, opting instead to finish his cup of coffee while Raito resumed his strange, time-consuming treatment of his pancakes - cutting out each small bit and putting syrup on that alone before eating it and repeating the process. Soichiro abandoned the thought of putting syrup on his as his son seemed to be monopolizing it quite intentionally. _Quitting? _Said so nonchalantly, he wasn't sure if Raito was serious.

He gave his son an assessing look, and he received one much like it.

"Actually, father, I would like to talk to you about something later." Raito, eyes not moving from his, put the syrup down in front of him and drew back. He'd dropped the confrontational air that typically seeped through everything he said and did in the presence of his father.

A peace offering?

Soichiro took the syrup, trying to keep surprise off of his face as he poured it on his cooling pancakes. "Alright." Raito had never asked to speak with him like this, not since he was was much younger. At around the age of 9 he'd become quite reserved and withdrawn from him, though he was still mostly the same with his mother. What could he possibly which to speak about?

Soichiro methodically cut his pancakes with a pensive frown on his face, then took a bite, chewing idly. He felt both encouraged that Raito was seeking him out, and wary as this sort of behaviour was pretty unprecedented. In fact, they had been on rocky ground since before Raito graduated from high school. It pained him that he did not have a good situation, but typically his son was so backhanded and snotty in his presence that he often felt inspired with anger. Why couldn't his son be more accommodating? He was so gifted, intelligent, and motivated... possessed of many traits that any father could be proud of, but he was disallowed that due to his son's attitude.

He spared a glance at the flesh of his flesh and thought again how much of a stranger his son was to him. That mind was a steel trap when it came to exposing any personal details. He was churlish with how closely he kept such things and rebuffed any attempts made to breach that barrier. And why was it so? Soichiro knew the boy was not that way with his wife - he'd seen Raito be accommodating, forthright, personable. Not to mention, he had remained in contact with her while he was abroad, though communications could be infrequent. It had irked him that while this went on, he was ignored as if he did not exist.

Soichiro had learned a special brand of frustration and irritation in dealing with his son. No matter what he did, Raito was determined to snub him, twist his intentions, and be generally difficult. He had no idea why this had come to pass.  
_  
So now he wants to talk, does he?_

Soichiro wondered what topic of conversation could possibly be so important as to make his son suddenly act like a civil human being towards him. He chewed through his pancakes at a steady pace, his visage stern. He supposed he should try to shelve his irritation in favor of the curiosity this development had also inspired. If his recalcitrant son was making a gesture, he might as well try to receive it in a positive fashion.

Unfortunately, it would have to wait until evening. Raito may be able to skip and make light of his sketchy job, but Soichiro had real duties and obligations that could not be set aside.

* * *

Raito figured the talk with his father would have to wait until evening, the only thing he was unsure of was what the hour might be. He couldn't help feeling irked over the years at how his father had always put his job first, often at the expense of his mother and family. And it wasn't necessary. Not at all. It was a choice, just like everything else. And with how seriously the older man took his work, the extra time spent on his career took a toll on him. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. For being the center of the family, as his father fancied himself, his absence only served to put pressure on his mother, who held the family together in truth. Not to mention, his father's health had started to slip. At this rate, he was going to put himself in an early grave, leaving his wife to pick up the pieces yet again.

Was it any wonder that he felt antagonistic over that at least? Personal differences aside, Raito resented him for this.

His father could be so overwhelmingly blind.

He wondered sometimes why his mother loved him.

And she did. He knew it. It was obvious in a plethora of ways, but most of all in the way that she supported him no matter what and defended him even from her well-meaning son.

Raito sighed.

He just wished her to be happy and wondered if that was even possible, things being what they were.

It was weird being at home again, he thought as he washed some dishes he'd dirtied. He glanced at the pan on the stove, making sure nothing was cooking too quickly, and resumed his task. Being at home, while comforting in some ways, was equally disturbing with how quickly old problems cropped up. He remembered now the things that bothered him so frequently while living under this roof. Years had passed and yet nothing had changed. It was like stepping backwards into the past, finding himself a student once more, unable to change anything with his own two hands no matter how badly he wished to. How debilitating it was...

He'd wanted to talk sense into his father, show him how he was hurting his mother with neglect, though she would never show him such a thing. Raito could see it, could sometimes see the sadness tingeing her smile. It bugged him, and yet he could do nothing. Nothing but watch. And he did not wish to be privy to such things.

His father would not listen to him, even if he were to speak to him frankly. For what would a child know that he did not? Raito swore that he was not a full person in his father's eyes. He was an object. A son. A son with certain qualities, the ones that were always praised. He was a son who would follow in his footsteps. A son that was denied free will.

And Raito did not want to follow in those footsteps. He did not want to be the man his father was - blind.

So he rebelled. He rebelled at all costs, hurting the mother he wished to protect, forging his own path in the world and wondering if he wasn't inadvertently being more like his father with his obstinance.

It was kind of funny how life could turn out - looping in upon itself. A twisted, farcical little play in which the puppets all struggled against the strings that moved them inevitably along their predetermined paths.

The other thing that was funny, in an ironic sort of way, was the very notion of family. Raito cared about his mother, albeit in a somewhat detached fashion, but his father and sister... well, he should feel something for them since they were of his blood, but he found that he could not conjure much of anything for them. They'd shared this house with him, but they were strangers. His sister looked up to him, but she knew nothing about him. His father also knew nothing. Every day for so many years, they had gathered at the kitchen table to take meals, but what did that amount to? Did it connect them? Did it inspire closeness? Or was it a duty that all families held to because it was expected?

Lawliet's family was not a family at all, not by blood, and yet there was a bond between the detective and the older man, Watari. Even the woman, Celia, seemed warm and caring towards him, as if she would gladly be a mother to him, were that possible. And she had only been around for a short time from what Raito had gathered.

Was blood more important in a family, or was depth of feeling?

Raito frowned into the dishwater. He'd never stopped to consider it before. He didn't give 'family' much thought. It was only in comparing his home life with that of Lawliet's that he really started to wonder. As usual, with his family, he felt tied down, obligated. He loved his freedom too much to bear this proximity indefinitely, and moving from it had been good for him. It was strange that he felt compelled to spend time here now. Maybe it was just that he did not wish to return home, but his mind was eased a little by being here, incongruous though that was.

Did Lawliet feel that way about his 'family'? Raito did not know the details, but he knew Watari was not the detective's father - he was too old to be. What was Lawliet's background? His origin? How had he come to meet Watari? What had happened to his mother and father? The impression he got was that Watari had taken Lawliet under his wing at a young age.

He scrubbed distractedly at a mixing bowl. _That was insensitive of me to say that his family was not 'real'. Yet I thought nothing of it at the time. _Looking back, revisting the words exchanged, Raito realized how much his comment must've bothered the dark-haired man. Only he hadn't been listening - he was too focused on other things and he had deemed family to be of little consequence overall because _he_ felt it to be so.  
_  
Yet one more thing I have to apologize for, if I am ever given the chance._

Raito felt a frown firmly inter itself upon his face, and that sinking feeling in his chest started acting up again.

Over and over again he berated himself for allowing something to happen that was so destructive to their relationship. _Why did I have to take him to that motel? If only I hadn't..._

(And if it hadn't been that, wouldn't it have been something else?)

It was all fine and well to know what to avoid in hindsight, but to see things for what they were before they came to pass... Well, he was only human, was he not? He couldn't predict the future.

The problem was that he was often moved to react to the detective in certain ways. Jealousy, anger, possessiveness. These were commonly vying for the top position whenever things got heated. When in Lawliet's vicinity, he was possessed with desire and the desire to control. He wanted hold of the detective's mind, spirit and flesh. He wanted, always, to crush those lips to his. He wanted to cow that stubborn streak with his own willfulness.

Agitation slipped into his body, making him restless.

He missed having that slight frame beneath his hands, the collarbones that felt as fragile as a bird's bones. He missed the intoxicating taste of that sarcastic mouth, the quality of his breaths, and those eyes that could bore through his smoke and mirrors like twin stars. Raito sagged against the sink, resting on his forearms and bowing his head sightlessly.

_I miss you, Lawliet._

Truly.

The unspoken words twisted in his chest.

Once more he entertained the idea of seeking the detective at his home and pleading his case, apologizing, anything to turn the tide. But it was only a flight of fancy. He could no more do that than he could breathe underwater. Lawliet had lain down the rules after all. He mustn't break them, no matter how tempted he may be.

His fists clenched uselessly and he grit his teeth. He was so powerless like this!

Pain and anger oscillated in him fast enough to make him feel sick.

"Raito?" his mother's voice drifted into the kitchen, preceding the sound of the front door closing.

He walled off his emotions as he straightened, sealing them rapidly until he had a moment to deal with them. "Yes, mother?"

"I thought I heard something in here," she commented pleasantly, poking her head in the kitchen. "Are you cooking?" she asked in surprise, delight marking her face.

"I thought it was the least I could do while staying here. You don't mind, do you?"

She beamed at him, and came over to squeeze him in a quick hug and to kiss his cheek. "Not in the least. It's wonderful to come home to a meal I didn't cook."

"It should be decent, at least," he said, dismissive of his skill.

"Don't be so modest, dear," she chided warmly, "it doesn't suit you." She left the room briefly to set down her bag. "It smells wonderful. Did you go to the store as well? We were running out of a lot of things lately...I can't imagine what you might've been able to make with what was left."

"I picked up a few items."

"You're such a sweet boy."

He offered her a smile. It was only difficult because he couldn't get his mind off of Lawliet. "It's about ready. You can set it to low just to keep it warm until you are ready to eat."

Her expression dimmed and she eyed his face. "Is something wrong? You don't look well."

He cursed his flawed act. It used to be that he could fool her just like anyone else when he really needed to. He was slipping. He couldn't focus. "I thought I might lie down a while. My head's been hurting me." He couldn't focus because all he could see was dark, accusing eyes, and the distancing words he'd received on his phone.

"Would you like to eat with me before you go?"

_Can't focus, can't focus, can't focus._ He couldn't even think of an appropriate response to alleviate her suspicions, so he waved off the suggestion with an attempted smile. "No, thank you, go ahead without me. I'll have some later." _Food. I'm hardly hungry._

Raito retreated to his room and threw himself face-down upon the bed.  
_  
Why can't I get you out of my head? Stop tormenting me!_

Even as he ran apologies through his head at the phantom Lawliet that was haunting him, he found himself wanting to enclose that spectre in the cage of his arms. He wanted to crush that pale body beneath his, trap slender wrists in a bone-cracking grip and violate his soft, reluctant mouth. He wanted those soulful dark eyes to quit looking at him like this, accusing him, distancing him. He wanted to force them closed with distraction as he took that body forcefully and he wanted to see the strain of pleasure staining his face as he speared into the core of him.

It had been so long now, an eternity since he'd felt the silken heat of delicate skin beneath his hands. So long ago that thighs had trembled against his inquisitive fingertips and quickened breaths had echoed in his ears with their sweet cadence.

Did Lawliet not feel this same fire that burned him up daily? Was he not plagued by this desperation?

Raito clenched his eyes shut even tighter as the desire that had no outlet fizzled up his spine, his hands fisting in the sheets.

_I just want to feel you._

Taste you.

His whole body throbbed as he dwelt upon those sentiments, his mind already trying to supply images to accompany them. He tried to disown them but he was becoming too weak to continue fighting it. He'd been trying to avoid ravishing Lawliet in his head, but...

Desire pulsed in him, growing in the space between his hips and the bed, begging to be resolved. He bit his lip as he tried to force it down, but all he was seeing on the inside of his eyelids was the beckoning face of the object of his desire. Remembering flashes of pale, bare skin, of a head tilted back in passion, of the sound of Lawliet's voice as he cried out, was twisting his mind inside out. His hips moved against the mattress reflexively, ignoring his decree that his body would not succumb to something like this. His hand moved to betray him as well.

His body ached and was beginning to flush hot. He couldn't keep the images from coming, nor his breath from coming faster. It was with absolute frustration that he lost the battle after all this time. He bit through his lip, tasting blood.

The Lawliet in his head writhed against him. Gasped. Welcomed him inside his fevered body as their lips crashed together. Parted thighs trembled as he drove inside that vulnerable, wanton part of his companion. Desire sharpened and raked him repeatedly with every damning thrust, killing him slowly. Desire was the hot, steely flesh in his palm and he handled Lawliet roughly as he drove into him, wanting and needing to hear him cry out despite himself, pleasure and pain blurring.

He couldn't stop himself.

He didn't want to.

Lawliet's body bowed to his, stretching impossibly as orgasm drew his frame taut and forced a groan from his panting mouth.

Raito smothered his own sound of completion into the pillow his face was buried in, his limbs shaking as waves of pleasure rocked wildly through his body. He despised the weakness this portrayed - that he had lost to himself this fully.

Panting, his breath came fast as he turned his face from the pillow to suck air into his lungs.

He closed his eyes, tired of fighting. It was a losing battle, was it not?

* * *

Raito's father arrived home around 10:00 p.m. His mother had decided to go to bed already, in case he was home even later. Raito, of course, waited up. He also insisted that they put the food away. It bothered him, the thought of keeping his father's serving warm as if he were only a few minutes late from the office when it was likely he wouldn't be home for hours. He assured his mother he would take care of things when his father came home, and encouraged her to get the extra rest while she could.

Raito was waiting in the darkened living room, slouching in one of the leather chairs, brooding.

It was more than just Lawliet that was the focus of his thoughts.

His eyes marked his father in the doorway, bending to remove his shoes, and Raito felt that familiar, antagonistic feeling shade his thoughts. "Good evening, father," he said from the darkness.

Soichiro straightened and looked in his general direction. It was obvious he was blinded and could not see him in turn. "I'm sorry I'm late; something unexpected came up."

"Yes, there always is something, isn't there? It isn't all that unexpected." It rankled him, the petty excuse, when his father had been doing this for years. How often had his mother heard these very same words over and over? How many times had she waited up for him, even on into the late night? How many times had he chosen his work over her?

"Did you still want to talk?" his father asked in a slightly gruff tone that betrayed his discomfort.

Raito rose from his seat and strode into the light with grace, purpose, and narrowed eyes. "I do." Though the topic of conversation would not be quite what he'd had in mind when he originally made the request. He took a seat at the kitchen table. It was dim here, too, but the light over the stove created enough illumination for them to see by.

* * *

Soichiro regarded his son, the set expression on his face and the tensed jaw. His articulate hands were folded on the tabletop in front of him, his posture a mimicry of relaxation. Strange that Raito's demeanor was like this now - it was so different from this morning when he'd asked to talk.

He estimated this to be something that was going to be rather tense, and thought it prudent to make a quick stop into the kitchen for a libation.

"Wine, father?" Raito's voice carried after him, though the tones were soft, and it sounded vaguely... disapproving.

He stuck his head back around the door and looked at the boy, dissecting him as he said, "Did you want some as well?" This was where Raito always refused. Always. And with the air of challenge about him. So it was with great surprise that he witnessed his son looking up at him with unreadable eyes as he instead answered, "Yes."

Soichiro frowned as he got out two glasses. He would have thought that response would make him feel happy or relieved. But it didn't. Not in the least. He uncorked the bottle of red wine, a Syrah with notes of black currant and toffee. It was a good vintage and had come with a hefty price tag. It was certainly not your everyday tablewine, but then his son wanting to speak with him was not a common thing either. Especially when he had consented to sharing a drink with him as well - something he'd always, until now, refused to do. He was unable to think of this as a waste of a good bottle. It _was_a special occasion, in a way.

He set his jaw as he re-entered the room, vaguely aware that he was slipping into _interrogation mode_. It made his posture ramrod straight and business-like, and his gaze stern. It wasn't the first time he'd reacted to Raito's demeanor like this, and it wouldn't be the last. He did think however, that it illustrated the disconnect between them. But there was nothing to be done about that now. This was just the way things were. They approached each other with their full guard enabled, and distrust lingering in the air.

He poured Raito a half glass of the wine, knowing now what he had always suspected - that his son did in fact drink, just not in his presence. Another ploy to irk him, it seemed, but for what purpose? Raito had always made a point of disdainfully refusing his offers and making it seem as if having a drink was something to be viewed with utmost scorn. Yet his detective friend had been absolved of such judgement and even been encouraged to drink. What sort of sense did that make? There was no other way to see it but as something of a personal vendetta his son held against him.

Raito waited until Soichiro had filled his own glass before tipping his upward in an informal toast. He took a long drink from it before rolling the stem in his fingers consideringly. "Did it ever occur to you to consider mother as you dismiss your health daily with such indulgences?"

There was a sharpness to his tone, that barely veiled disapproval he loved to whip out when he thought no one would catch him at it.

"I always consider your mother," he responded gruffly, bristling at his son's brass accusation.

"Really? So if you die prematurely, leaving her alone, that would have been well thought out and acceptable to you?"

He opened his mouth to respond but Raito was pressing on.

"And when you come home late, or don't come home at all, is that also something that has been carefully weighed in your mind? It is with careful deliberation that you put your work before her and everything else?"

Soichiro made himself drink his wine before answering. Just for the extra time to consider his words. If he spoke on impulse, as he usually did, it was going to get ugly. Raito had a god-given talent for incensing him. "You speak as if you know everything, son." His tone was stony. "Surely you are not so conceited and close-minded to believe that of yourself."

Raito leaned back in his chair, an imperious look on his face as he held the glass up like a prop in his languid hand. His eyes were sharp and acidic. "I believe that living in this house for as long as I have would have made me privy to the truth, as well as to your blind disregard for those things you deem of little import."

"I suppose it doesn't surprise me all that much that you would choose to pick a fight with me while staying under my roof. Such things as courtesy never stopped you before."

A muscle in Raito's jaw twitched. "Then how auspicious it was for me to make my own way in the world, removing that blight from your pristine image."

Soichiro glared at his child. "I never thought of you as a blight, or a bad reflection upon me. Surely you know that?"

"How would I?" Raito bit back. "I never did what you wanted from the moment I left this house and I know how that sat with you over the years."

"I was proud of you once. Now all I see is this spiteful face of yours, and I don't understand why you have to be like this. Was your intention tonight to pick a fight with me? That was not how it seemed this morning."

Raito laughed mirthlessly. "You say that to me, and yet color me the instigator? That's rich, father, even for you."

Soichiro had never known such agitation before being gifted with a son. Truly. It was its own sort of punishment. Ironic that he had so wished for a son, believing things would play out in the way he imagined. Despite his anger, though, it did pain him that this acerbic stranger was his flesh and blood, that they could not find a place in which they could lay down arms. He tried to be a good father, he really did try, but his temper often got the better of him. Nothing he ever did seemed to go right where his son was concerned. He could warn him of shark-infested waters and Raito would blithely jump in, just because he was advised not to.

He took a deep breath, centering himself as he sometimes had to do in interrogations to keep his head and reactions in check. This was his son, and he was the father. It was his duty to withstand some of the backlash and take it in stride. It was very hard to do, this being such a close, personal matter. But perhaps if he allowed Raito to vent some of his ire, they could move past this stage and progress.

It was a very strange look indeed that Raito gave him when he held the bottle of wine aloft in a gesture of filling his son's glass. Yet he grudgingly brought it close to be filled, almost compulsively, as if he weren't giving the action as much thought as he was the motivation behind it.

Soichiro drank, encouraging his son to do the same through unspoken means, though he nearly slipped up by commanding Raito to drink his wine. Contrary as his son was, he would do the opposite of any demand placed upon him. And it was only through frustration that Soichiro kept ordering him to do this or that. His son's motivations baffled him, as did some of the choices he made, and it would all be so much easier if he could give out an instruction and have it followed, as it would be by any of his men at the station. But with Raito, he was not a Commander in Chief, he was a father not respected enough to be obeyed. The truth of it hurt, and he wished that just once, Raito could try to give him the deference he deserved.

Amazingly enough, Raito drank from his cup. Being given a choice, it seemed like he was less prone to be obstinate.

"What happens between your mother and I is between us," Soichiro said in what he hoped was not a grating tone. "I don't expect you to understand how complicated certain things can become between two people or how different it can look from within the relationship as opposed to without. But I appreciate your concern, and I will... make an effort to decrease my consumption of such things." He indicated the wine. "I have been meaning to for a while now, I just never seemed to find the right time."

His son viewed him warily. Concessions were a first. He was likely trying to adjust.

"And what of work?" Raito asked him.

"I admit that I have a problem letting other people handle things that I feel would be accomplished better in my own hands. In some ways, it is an admirable trait for someone in a position of authority... but as you pointed out, it also has its drawbacks. Your mother fears that overwork is dragging my health down as well as making me drink more, and she is probably right."

Raito was wearing a blank expression that Soichiro supposed might actually be a cover for surprise. They'd certainly never spoken like this before.

"Enough about me. You had something else you wished to speak of."

The brunet drained his glass and set it upon the table. "You'll remember this morning how I mentioned not going in to work?"

Soichiro nodded, feeling it best not to offer commentary. He still felt that his son's chosen career path was futile and a dead end, not to mention unscrupulous. He knew though that he could not force those truths into his son's thick skull. He'd tried countless times and all it did was cause more bad blood between them.

"Well," Raito continued off-handedly, "I actually _am _considering quitting."

Soichiro blinked. "You what?" Had he heard that right? But Raito had vehemently defended his career choice for years!

Ruddy amber eyes, nearly the same color as his wife's stared back at him unflinchingly. Calmly. Affirming the words he'd heard with their steadfast regard. Was this a test of some sort? If he congratulated Raito, would he fail the test and set them back to square one? "And if you do terminate your employment, where will you go next?"

Something shifted in Raito's eyes and he did not look altogether unpleased. In fact, he looked a bit more open and forgiving. "I've thought of pursuing law from a different angle. And what I wanted to ask you was where you thought I might be able to do that if I considered law enforcement."

Soichiro's jaw literally dropped.

"Don't get your hopes up," Raito warned him, his look sharpening though a sulk lingered about his mouth. "I'm just seeing what my options are, and thought it worthwhile to at least _consider _what you've been harping on about for all this time."

"Your first step would have to be the police academy, regardless of which area interested you."

"I thought as much."

"The time it took you would be a minor setback; since you already studied law, you will be ahead of the other graduates as soon as you complete their regimen."

Raito nodded, taking in the information, but his expression promised nothing.

"It wouldn't be with my department, but I could put in a good word for you were you to go through with this. I think you would find placement quickly, though you would still have to spend some time ascending the ranks."

"And if I pursued that, are there any positions that would afford me autonomy?"

"Yes, but they are highly competitive."

"Hmn," the brunet mused. "Well, I do like a challenge."

"Raito, what caused this..." he fumbled for words, for the right phrasing so as to not offend.

"My sudden interest in alternate career opportunities?"

Soichiro nodded.

"I told you, I am not committed to anything yet. I just want to see what else is out there. Perhaps something will appeal to me more than what I do now. It would be foolish not to investigate such things." He smiled somewhat ruefully. "Not to mention, the constant dinner meetings are rather banal."

* * *

Misa checked her watch impatiently for the third time. She couldn't understand why Raito hadn't called her back. She'd told him it was _important_. It was unusual not to be able to reach him and it irritated her.

"Daddy!" she shrieked up at the second floor, stomping her foot upon the bottom step of the wooden staircase as she clutched the railing with one hand for balance. It made a somewhat satisfying racket. "Where is Raito?"

"Pumpkin, Daddy is working," the Chairman called back as if through gritted teeth.

He sounded like he was busy.

She didn't care. Her brows drew together as she considered his response. Then she leaned further forward upon the railing as if to better be heard as she summoned all the air in her lungs to call back, "But I haven't been able to reach him ALL DAY!"

A long suffering sigh could be heard from the first room at the top of the stairs. "Did it occur to you that he might be tied up with _work_?"

She clutched her phone tightly in her hand and gathered her short, voluminous skirt in her hands as she raced up the stairs, a monumentally petulant frown riding her dainty features. "Daddy-!" She burst into the Chairman's study to argue with him. "He **always** calls me back," she informed him in the tone of a spoiled princess, her stance demanding that this be dealt with _now_.

"Darling," he said through gritted teeth, "What can I do to take your mind off of this?" He really did have better things to do. Sometimes he wished he could lock her out of the house. She could be the absolute worst for his concentration.

"MAKE HIM CALL ME."

Chairman Amane breathed a deep sigh as he took off his reading spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose. In truth, Raito had been scarce the last few days, but with Misa breathing down his neck, he couldn't really blame the boy. Besides, he was probably stealing off to dally with that detective, whom all these young men were incomprehensibly preoccupied with, while he still could. That was a shocker. Raito was the last person he would have guessed to be that type. Aiber as well. It made no sense._Kids these days._They'd be put to better slinging slop buckets for all that they actually used the brains between their ears.

"Precious, why don't you just go pay him a visit then? He doesn't appear to be at the office." _Sorry, m'boy, and good luck._ He might feel a touch bad for the brunet, but he certainly was not going to sacrifice _his_peace and calm because of it. Best to get Misa off the premises.

Raito was going to lead a long and miserable life at the hands of his little girl. He might as well start getting used to it.

He replaced his spectacles and resumed shuffling through paperwork, already dismissing her presence in his head.

"You're right... I could just pop by and see him."

He could hear the smile starting to shine through her words as she spoke. He couldn't care less - he had things to take care of. "Uh huh," he said distractedly. "Why don't you go do that now, muffin?"

"Ok, Daddy, I will," she sang, bouncing over to give him a quick hug, her head already filling with plans. "Buh bye!"

* * *

TBC

**A/N 2: **I wrote a good half of this in the wee hours of the morning, stopping at 4am or so. Interesting sometimes what gets written when you are drifting in and out of sleep. Haha phantom!L pr0n. I guess that officially makes me weird. Pft.


	25. It's Everything

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 25

* * *

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

**A/N:**Chapter title is from the song "Nothing and Everything" by Red.  
**  
**For some reason, when I tried to reply to reviews, I kept getting errors saying that the user accounts did not exist. Which they **do**, so I don't know what the issue was. Argh.

Anyway, I wanted to assure you that L's pov was coming soon (this chapter!), and that I'd pre-written quite a bit. I think I have nearly all of ch27 written. Now I just need to go back over the chaps, ready them for beta, etc. I'm hoping to have timely updates for a bit.

* * *

I can't reply to everyone here (plus it would be annoying, right?), but I wanted to at least give a few shout outs. But thank you so much to everyone else as well. You gave me a ton of great feedback, laughs, and even (I suspect) warm fuzzies.

**Smirking Menace** - Thank you for making me laugh so much. _"Light Yagami, Ladies and Gentlemen! The king of Dub-con, blame deflecting excuses and mind screws!"_LOL it is so true! I thoroughly enjoyed your commentary and always love a laugh. In this case, you kept them coming. I was rolling on the floor to the point where my beta had to ask what was wrong with me. Of course, I had to share... (Oh man, your image of Raito being competitive at a new job was hilarious.)

**YellowRose87**- Man. The first thing I wanted to do in response to your foreseen scenarios is go: Aha! None of the above! and proceed to tell you my plans. Only... spoilers suck, so I can't. You hit all the bases though and I actually was having fun playing things out the way you proposed in my head. (The scene was already written though). You got very close on the one, but again, I can't explain in what ways. You'll likely see it though by the time it all comes out (part will be in a later chapter). Lol you asked about Aiber! I figured no one would be all that concerned with him. Hahaha. Don't worry, I wrote him in again. I was feeling he was sort of flapping in the breeze and needed some kind of appearance.

I liked your thoughts on the family stuff, especially that you pondered the Amanes. _"It's always been a mystery, even in canon, how Raito could be so different from the rest of his family. And Misa could not be more different from the Chairman - it really makes you wonder what kind of bimbo airhead the Chairman slept with back in the day."_LOL omg that really tossed me. You most certainly have a point. You also made me wonder why I felt absolutely no need to write Misa a mother. Or mention one at all. I think she must have died or something, when I think on it. Well, thems the bones of being a side character. Not important enough for much back-story.

_"And Raito felt remorse for what he said about L's family! Wow. I can't help but wonder if you put that in to placate those of us who commented on it in reviews, hehe."_I cannot claim that, as it was already written prior to the comments... but! if anyone felt placated, I certainly see that as a bonus. :D

And thank you to:  
**icedminttea** (much love to you also for liking aBfSF!), **Chasing**(_"Psssh, you can't get genius without abnormality :D "_), **Fury of the Flames**, **cherrymelodie**, **Thoughtless**, **cu-kid** (sorry, I won't know if L is going to have any kick-ass action scenes until if/when they write themselves.), **orangeducttape** (my beta thought it felt like a cliffhanger, too! I'd love to do a double update. Keep your eyes peeled, it might still happen. (That's the grand thing about holiday weekends - extra writing time!)), **Behan**(I loved getting to read all of your insights and impressions. Yours was one of the reviews I read several times.), **Princess of Oblivion** (I thought it was so cute how you were worried over L. I hope the coming chapters pan out in a way that pleases you re: Misa, the job, etc. I'll see if I can write in a little Misa-gets-head-bashed-into-convenient-wall ;) Haha.), **Girlfrommarz**(I knooow, it was an almost cliffie... sort of... Thank you for your praise - I'll try to keep you as excited (and cliff hung?) as possible! _"*runs in circles*"_ LOL.), **nomen nominandum** - (Thank you, I love getting real time reactions. And ty for wanting to share out the fic - unfortunately, I don't know anything about the share buttons.) **kitakitsune** - Of course I remember you! I know I haven't been on LJ really at all... but I liked talking to you quite a bit, and would like to continue doing so. Plus, discussing psychology is always fun, huh? :)  
**  
Also, thank you to everyone else who left feedback and/or love!**I hope the ff reply to review thingy is not still a problem next time.

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 25: (It's Everything)

L looked up from his place at the kitchen table, catching yet another glance exchanged by the table's other two occupants.

"What?" He felt off-kilter. A little moody, surly, and definitely lacking in patience. Accenting that, like the fondant upon a rich, indulgent bundt cake, was this clawing agitation that smelled like despair.

It was morning.

He was eating cereal, of all things. Or he would be, if these glances and whispers hadn't suspended his spoon in mid-transit. He couldn't recall a time when he'd ever felt more like some kind of crackpot scientist's experiment.

"What?" he asked again, trying this time to ensure his tone was appropriately non-combative.

Watari and Celia shared another glance before answering, spiking his aggravation.

"Honey," Celia said, addressing him as if he was her son, "we've been noticing that you seem a little... stressed lately." Her kind face looked uncertain, as if she wasn't sure if she was allowed to say such things to him. _Either that, or she's afraid I'm going to rip her face off like some kind of flesh-eating alien._ At this point, he wasn't sure which was worse.

During the last week, she and Watari had been increasingly presenting a unified front. He didn't mind them becoming closer or more couple-like, he really didn't. But the side effect seemed to be an influx of shared meals and 'family' activities. He wasn't sure how to feel about that, except that change at this point was not something he needed. Social expectations were doubly unhelpful. He just wanted to be left alone, not fussed over.

He couldn't help his eyes narrowing slightly, violating the poker face he'd been using lately to the point of wearing it out. He was tired. Tired of this, of the feelings clutching his chest, of being on display like this, of doing a poor job of convincing everyone that nothing was wrong... and sick and fucking tired of these shared meals which he had been suspecting for some time now were merely an excuse to force him to eat.

L set his spoon down, avoiding looking at either of them and stood up. "I have work to do," he said simply, excusing himself.

He nearly made it out of the kitchen uncontested. However-

"L." Watari's voice was stern, father-like. The older man had rarely ever taken that tone with him. It wasn't even his place to, though if anyone had the right to speak to him in that way, it would be the British man he'd lived with and worked with for over a decade. L just hoped he wasn't going to be chastised for being rude to Celia or some such thing. He wasn't sure his remaining patience could bear it.

"Yes?" L said finally, when it seemed like Watari wasn't going to continue until he answered. He spoke over his shoulder. He did not want to encourage a conversation and he'd had enough of looking at their faces and enough of their concern.

"Dinner is at 6:30. Make sure you are ready before then. We'll be going out."

L let out a slow breath, eyes closing in an attempt to meter his response. He did not speak through clenched teeth as he spoke his words of refusal (a thing for which he thought he should be commended). "I have several cases on which I-"

"Lawliet," the older man said in a steely voice, invoking his full name in a way that did not bode well. L couldn't really recall him ever doing that. "You will accompany us to dinner or you will enlighten us as to what is bothering you - right this moment."

L ground his teeth together. "Everything is fine," he said doggedly, "I'm simply too busy to attend something so time-consuming at this juncture."

"We'll see you at dinner then." Watari's tone was stubborn, unrelenting.

There was a nearly audible _ping_ as the last fiber of L's reserve snapped. He whipped around.

"Why does everyone think there is something wrong with me?" His gaze darted between them with force, meeting their eyes at last which were motionless in their frozen faces.

Aggression... it was an ill-fitting emotion, but it welled up in him just the same. "Well? Am I not being social enough for you? Not talking enough?" Frustration and irritation crawled up his spine, and spite rolled off of his tongue. "Or do you expect that I should have adjusted already to this little family you're trying to build around me without asking?"

L wasn't thinking ahead about anything he was saying, he was just reacting, and all through it, he couldn't help feeling that some of the very things he was voicing as their potential complaints were the _very _reasons that he and Raito would never work together. 

I'm

_**not **__social... I__** don't**_ _speak much..._And he hadn't adjusted to the brunet's twisted ways fast enough; he'd been feeling damaged and misused, but now... now he was broken and abandoned. He'd never guessed how big the hole in his chest was that the brunet had occupied until the space was vacant.

It was cavernous, and he was sick in the wake of its emptying.

Fire touched his eyes, and the sting of salt was soon after. He turned quickly, unprepared for the unconscious reaction. It frustrated him. "I'll be in my room. Working."

"L, maybe you should take some time off." Watari called after him, tone unplaceable.

_Time off? But this is all I have!_

* * *

In the end, L decided to go to dinner with his self-appointed parents, if only to not make things worse. He hadn't been proud of his reaction earlier, and certainly had not wanted to throw Celia's concern back in her face. There were few enough people in this world who would take the time to care about others; there was no sense in discouraging it. At another time, perhaps, he would be able to properly appreciate it. He'd just been too wound up inside to feel anything but harassed. That wasn't anyone's fault but his own.

_No need to take it out on them.  
_  
Truth be told, he was not progressing on any of his cases much at all. His mind felt blank. Racing. It had never been like this before. He had to do something. Something... and he was growing increasingly more certain of what that 'something' might be. 

Not yet,

he told himself._ Not yet._He needed a little more time.

He prepared for dinner in the same manner he had for the excursions he used to take to the bars. He cleared his mind of anything but the act of adorning himself with clothing he'd gotten more used to than he'd ever thought possible. He finger-combed his hair, put on shoes, and quashed the mad thought that he might somehow encounter the brunet somewhere - and that everything would be ok. Feelings fluttered in his chest - hope, anxiety, dread. _Foolish_.

He made sure he had his wallet, phone and keys securely in his pockets, remembering the time he'd raced out of here half-cocked to meet Raito outside of the bar for the first time. How miserable that had been. How cold, wet, and utterly miserable, yet Raito's eyes had held warmth enough to combat it all. Those sharp, all-seeing, dark amber eyes, his sophisticated expressions and aristocratic bearing... Everything about him was the polar opposite to L except for his intellect; that would be the merge in their personal Venn diagrams. For it was certain that morals, social preferences, and other such things couldn't be much further out of alignment.

Oh, that hellish day, that trip to the restaurant in the rain... who could have ever imagined it would end the way it had? That Raito would lean into him in the backseat of a cab, tasting his lips and carelessly awakening a desire the like of which he'd never known... Even now, he was not immune to that memory. It swept through him viscerally - lips, hands, the sound of the brunet's voice in his ear-

L rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the heat of it and trying to dispel the tumbling thoughts.

His knees felt weak.

He had some time before they would be leaving, so he allowed himself a moment to just sit down on his bed and try to repair his mental state. His deadpan stare focused on the wall behind his desk. White. Unmarked. Uninspired. Utilitarian.

_What if I just try again?_ The thought drifted into his mind unbidden. _Call him... What would I have to lose?_

His stare intensified as the gathering force of infinite pros, cons, and possibilities began filtering through the whirring cogs of his brain. The worst that could happen was a repeat of the last time he'd called. Which was unfulfilling at best. But the odds were against such a thing occurring twice, in exactly the same way, even if it did go poorly. But there was also the chance it could turn in a positive direction if they exchanged more than the preliminary words they had the last time.

_After all, he even had me meet his parents. Surely he would not have done so if I was unimportant. _Though Misa had met them as well, and Raito claimed to not care for her...

His thumb drifted up to his lips and he chewed on it distractedly. _He also wanted me to move in with him, for some reason. That should not have come up unless he was serious about things, right? And that temper - was it so volatile because he cared?_ L supposed that was possible. But it was a fearsome temper indeed with how grievous things could turn with it at the helm.  
_  
If I called again, and he answered, maybe this time we could actually talk. Maybe something could come to be resolved._

Having heard Misa's voice through Raito's phone was still a source of contention, but L knew that he'd allowed his feelings to get the better of him - he had been the one to cut that call short, not Raito. He was the one who had hung up, fear rising up to shear the brunet's words and silence him.

Fear. Cowardice. Anxiety.

These were the things with which he struggled so helplessly, the things that kept him a recluse, the things that had caused him to wall himself up in his own mind. These were the things he'd set out to conquer, intent on breaking his cage.  
_  
So it comes full circle. I can fear the unknown and let that still my hand, or I can step forward and take a chance on what is to come._

L marked the location of his cell phone, sitting across the room on his desk, glinting dangerously.

_'Lawliet-'_

What had Raito been about to say that time? He'd sounded a cross between exasperated and placating. Was he going to end things there, or was it something else entirely?  
_  
(Find out.)_

L stood slowly, staring at his phone as if it were a viper. He envisioned pressing the buttons, conjuring the brunet. What he saw was a blade dancing in restless, graceful hands... cruel eyes. He could hear that mocking, taunting voice... and he felt again the burn of liquor in his mouth as the brunet fed it to him through a thoroughly compromising kiss and felt hands pull reaction after reaction from his body while his mind railed against it.

His chest felt tight.  
_  
What is the right thing to do?_

Can you reasonably _**want **__someone like this, through such mixed feelings? How do you know if they are__** necessary**__ or just a harmful addiction? Withdrawal burns with acrid intensity even when you are purging a virulent poison._

L's hand hovered over his phone. If Raito was a deadly addiction, would he be able to resist his pull? Could he let things end, even if he were to _know_ that he'd be better off in the long run?  
_  
Or has Raito already moved on?_

The dial tone from the phone in his hand seemed ominous. Loud. Daunting.

L stared at the screen of his cell and was nearly possessed with the misbegotten urge to look at the pictures Raito had taken that day at the motel. Would they sway him one way or the other, enable him to make a decision? But he could see the one almost clearly in his head - Raito's shuttered eyes as the brunet kissed him, intensity dusting his aristocratic face along with a telltale blush of color. L's eyes had been closed, an expression on his face that was as tortured as it was enraptured. His own skin had looked so pale against his black hair and flushing cheeks.

He decided not to look. It would only make things harder if this was the end and he'd seen even more of those obscenely compelling images... or if he caught sight of Raito's inescapable gaze in any of them. He wouldn't be able to look away.

The tightness in his chest intensified and he bit the inside of his lip hard, tasting blood.  
_  
Call._

Call.

_**Call.**_

It was a sick cadence in his head, beating as fast as his heart was beating now. It did nothing to enable him to actually do it. The phone shook in his trembling hand. _Is reinitializing contact the right thing for me? Or is it completely the wrong thing, yet somehow the only thing I dearly wish for?_ Indecision shook him in its teeth like a rabid dog, but he already knew the answer. It was inevitable, wasn't it? He couldn't stay away. Couldn't leave things as they were. Even without being present, the brunet was consuming his mind and body like a plague. He couldn't live like this.

Eyes closed, he took a bracing breath.  
_  
Just dial without thinking about what you are going to say. It's the only way to do this._ He watched his thumb press the first 3 digits. Then the 4th... 5th... 6th...

A knock at the door made him jump nearly out of his skin, and he reflexively snapped the phone shut, his heart hammering in his chest. "Yes?" he said weakly.

"We're about to leave," Watari's muffled voice came through the door. "Are you ready?"

L's nerves were jangling in a great cacophony and he was utterly disoriented. Was it really that late already? He wiggled the mouse of his computer and saw the time was 6:25 p.m. "Yes, coming," he said distractedly.

He caught his abused lower lip in his teeth, more carefully this time. Now that he'd committed to doing it, he wanted to get the call over with. Maybe then he could lay this dissonance to rest or reach some sort of closure that would end the restless flapping which overwhelmed his thoughts of late. But dinner was a prior obligation, and he could always call later. 

_Besides_, he thought,_ I don't want to cram the call into the span of 2 minutes._ It sounded very much like an excuse even to his own ears, a reprieve from what might be an unpleasant task. _But there is nothing for it._

The voice in the back of his head whispered, _(There is always a choice.)  
_  
Reluctantly, he pocketed his phone and left the room.

* * *

Sitting at a modestly set table, L was relieved that the place Celia and Watari chose was not French. Not that he had anything against French food (because he didn't), but places like that seemed more likely to attract the sort of people L would like to avoid running into. Namely people in Raito's line of work.

He didn't take note of the name of the restaurant or its location. It wasn't that it was important that he do so, only it was unlike him to be so oblivious to his surroundings. The only reason he knew it to be a Pan-Asian seafood restaurant was due to the items listed on the menu.

He wasn't particularly fond of seafood, nor was he particularly hungry, so he settled on ordering some garlic bread. It seemed an odd inclusion on this menu, but he didn't bother himself with dwelling upon it.  
_  
I wonder how long this will take... maybe an hour and a half? Then I can..._

His fingers brushed over the phone in his pocket, and somehow his heart felt a bit lighter. Soon he would have his answer instead of this looming uncertainty. There was an end in sight.

Was it possible that he was actually feeling optimistic?

"L-kun?"

Celia was looking at him expectantly. He blinked and realized that a waiter was standing beside the table with a tiny notebook in his hands and a pen poised to take his order.

"I'll have the garlic bread."

The waiter nodded. "And what would you like for dinner?"

"The garlic bread?" he said again, desiring nothing further.

This garnered weird looks from both the waiter and his dining companions.

Celia leaned over the table and motioned him closer. "That isn't a very healthy choice, dear."

Her eyes said what she really meant - that bread was not an acceptable dinner - and pleaded with him to eat something substantial.

He sighed and picked up the menu to reassess what he might be able to stand forcing down his throat. "A minute, please," he requested distractedly.

The waiter nodded and swept off to take care of his other tables.

When he returned, L ordered miso soup. He didn't look at Celia. He could feel her worried frown. Instead, he looked around the restaurant and took in the decor, for something to do. It wasn't half bad. The walls were a ruddy brown accented by large pieces of framed art, and the chairs were all black, high-backed affairs. It looked a bit like a coffee-house in some ways. Minus the huge bar that ran nearly the length of the back wall.

L found his eyes sticking over a certain section of the seating, but it wasn't until almost a half hour later that he realized why. It was at this point that a woman at a nearby table turned to greet a new arrival to her table, and he realized it was Misa. For a moment, seeing her blinding smile, he froze. He'd seen who she reserved such smiles for. L's breath caught in his throat, his pulse hammering, and from the corner of his vision, Raito came into view- or he would have, only it was not Raito that had arrived. The man wearing a beige suit was taller and had a sturdier frame than Raito, as well as wavy blond hair.

Aiber reached out to shake the hand of the table's other occupant, a portly man who practically reeked of affluence. _That must be Misa's father, the man Raito works for._

"L?" Watari broke into his thoughts.

L turned his attention back to his own table. He was making a mess of this. "Yes, sorry. You were saying?"

Watari viewed him with a skeptical look. "Something of interest you would like to share? I've never seen you so distracted."

"Sorry," he said again. "It's... work. Sort of." He shook his head to indicate it was not important and tried to involve himself in conversation with the two of them. There was another shared look of silent communication. Boy, they were getting good at that. Pretty soon they'd be able to relay everything non-verbally.

"L, I meant it when I suggested that you take a break from work. The way things have been lately... it might be for the best."

L frowned at him. "Only just recently you were telling me that I did not focus on work enough."

Watari frowned back at him, crossing his arms and pensively twitching his mustache. "I do realize that. And I thought that perhaps it was fruitless of you to spend so much time with Yagami Raito, that it was just hurting your focus..."

Hearing Raito's name jagged through L like an electric current, fraying his nerves like lightning fells trees. He unwittingly held his breath as it jittered through him.

Watari continued, "But it doesn't seem like you've been seeing much of him lately, or going out for that matter, yet your focus is worse than ever. I don't understand it." The older man was obviously looking for an explanation.

"Yes, that is odd, isn't it?" he said weakly. "Um, I have to use the restroom. I'll be right back." He knew the British man was no slouch. He'd figure this out, and soon, no thanks to L's inability to be a convincing actor and his expedited retreat.

He found his way to the bathrooms and stood at the sink, splashing cold water on his face for something to do. His hands had gone into a flurry of shaking again, just at having the topic of Raito come up unexpectedly. This was ridiculous. He'd been so sure that he had resolved this sort of anxious reaction. He'd been fine. He'd even felt optimism. So why was he backsliding like this?

He grabbed some paper towels, drying his face and hands. What had happened to his cool and unflappable exterior?

Had Raito ruined his poker face?

Returning to the table, he was surprised to see Aiber there speaking with Celia and Watari.

His hackles rose, expecting a fight, or something unpleasant, though the environment should be enough prevent such things.

He approached cautiously. The last time he'd been in Aiber's acquaintance, he'd gotten himself pinned bodily against the wall of a corporate break room with the man forcing an insistent mouth upon his.

Aiber noticed him ghost up to the table, looking up to see who it was and looking startled as his eyes hit L's face. The look transmuted quickly then, showing a sharpness almost too quickly to place before falling off the man's face. What was strange was that it was something like a more intense version of the signature fixated, lascivious look that Aiber liked to level at him, only it was focused beyond him as if the blond detective was seeing or remembering something else. But it had sharpened a moment later and looked... pained somehow. Or angry. It was hard to tell.

_Very strange. _

Stranger still was that Aiber quickly disengaged from their group and returned to his table without saying so much as a word to him.

L watched him leave as he took his seat._Very strange indeed._ "Well, that's surprising," Watari noted. "I thought for sure he would have spoken to you at least for a moment - he rarely sees you in person, and when he doesn't he can make an awful pest of himself trying to reach you."

"Today has been full of surprises," L nodded sagely. He filed Aiber's odd behavior away for future analysis. For now, he had to focus on being social. "Do you have any more to throw onto the pile?" he joked.

"No," Watari said, "not quite yet." He paused, giving L a very serious look. "Though I believe you might have something yourself?"

L laughed nervously. He didn't mean to, it just sort of slipped out. What was Watari getting at? "There's really nothing."

Watari and Celia exchanged a glance. "Are you sure, dear? You can tell us, you know. It's ok." Her look was knowing, and attempted to look reassuring.

He did not feel reassured.

L regarded them with suspicion. What were they fishing for? "No, really-"

Celia pursed her lips, managing to look hurt and disapproving at the same time. "I wish you could just find it in your heart to trust us. We can be very open minded-"

L was chewing the inside of his lower lip raw. They knew something. Or thought they did. And they were not going to rest until it was dragged into the light, kicking and screaming. He realized he was shaking his head back and forth. A subconscious reaction.

Celia looked L straight in the eye and said, "It's about Raito, isn't it?"

"W-What is?" he said, cursing the stammer that affirmed her question. His pulse was pounding in his ears and his palms had instantly dampened.

"The reason you've been all out of sorts lately," she clarified.

_Good god. I don't know what to do._ He felt pole-axed and he couldn't tell if she was thinking they'd had a fight between friends or if she was implying there was more between them. "Um..." _'Um?' Is that really the best I can do?_  
_  
She must mean friends. There's no reason for her to think we were more involved than that._

"We did have something of a fight recently," he relented, trying to play it off, "and I can't say that I'm quite used to quarreling with friends..."

"Oh, but you're a good deal more than 'friends', aren't you, dear?"

L couldn't keep the shocked embarrassment off of his face. He could feel the heat of a flush giving him away. "Why would you say that?"

She settled back a bit, looking placated. "Well, I gave it some thought and all of the signs are there. Plus you've been moping about like you've had a lovers' spat..." She interrupted herself when she saw he was still mutely shaking his head. "It's ok, dear, you don't have to deny it. Watari and I have had a chat about this, and even if he does not get along with Raito, that doesn't mean the boy is a bad choice."

L sincerely wished the roof would cave in on him right then and there. He was almost afraid to look at Watari, and it seemed he could not make his head stop shaking back and forth in denial. Nor did he speak for several moments. Anything he said would probably be less than helpful.

"I have not been moping," he said at last.

She _hmphed_ at him. "Call it what you like, dear, but you've lost your appetite and have been ghosting around like your heart's been ripped out."

If the roof wasn't going to oblige him, he would settle for the ground opening up and swallowing him.

...any time now.

* * *

L didn't know how he made it through the rest of dinner. As soon as they got back, he took the stairs to his room two at a time and hid behind his locked door. He flopped onto his bed face-first and lay there like a dead man.

The last thing he possibly felt capable of doing was calling Raito.

As such, he dug blindly into his pocket to retrieve the phone, lifting his head only enough to see the keypad as he dialed the brunet.  
_  
Nothing to lose, right? And I can't imagine suffering anything more embarrassing than I already have this evening._

A female voice came on the line. It was a recording. "The number you have dialed is not in service or is outside of the calling area. Please check the number and try again later. Thank you."

L sat up. That was strange. Had Raito had his phone disconnected? Or was he actually outside of the covered network?

He frowned. This was the only way he had to reach the brunet. It was... disconcerting.

_I'll try again later_, he decided, thinking it typical of recent events that once he'd determined that he should contact Raito, he wasn't actually able to. _Tomorrow, perhaps. And if that does not prove fruitful, I can always contact him through his office._

He thought this, and yet he felt antsy. Why would Raito, who would practically need to live and die by his phone in his line of work, suddenly be unreachable? _Not only for myself, but how would anyone reach him if something important had arisen?_ It seemed irresponsible, or... careless, unthinking. None of which seemed in line with the Raito he knew.

He shut his phone, which had been playing the recording at him on loop.

If something had happened to the brunet's phone, L knew that it would have been quickly replaced. The only possibilities were that he had terminated or suspended his contract... or he really had traveled outside of the range covered on his cell plan.

L unfolded himself from his bed and drifted over to his darkened window. Night had fallen heavily, stealing the view. Precious little was visible by the dull illumination of the street light. The wind was beginning to gust in fitful starts, promising a heavy rain soon.

He realized he was worried.

And maybe that wasn't his place. However, the feeling persisted and the need to get in touch with Raito was sharpening and was even washing out the case of nerves that had been plaguing him before.

Suddenly, ensuring that everything was ok with Raito was more important than the anxiety-ridden back and forth over whether their relationship had ended or not. It was more important than fixating on Misa's role in the brunet's life. It was more important than his own pride and well-being.

L chewed distractedly on the inside of his lip, canines playing with breaking through it again.

Eventually the rain began to come down in sporadic bursts of frantic pattering, tapping out a beat upon the roof, a little bit more insistent each time. It was promising to be an awful downpour.

Despite this, L was actively considering a walk. But not just any walk - one that would take him to the brunet's doorstep. He didn't know if Raito would be home, or if he would even open the door, but he didn't feel that he would be able to banish this restlessness until he had at least tried.

Not wanting to risk the safety of his phone in the wall of water he would likely be trudging through, he left his phone on his bed. He went to his closet and rummaged through it, grabbing a dark coat that promised to be somewhat waterproof.

He drifted down the stairs, through the dim house, watchful and careful not to draw attention to himself. He let himself out, locking the front door and stepped into a deluge that plastered his hair to his head in an instant, pouring icy water straight down his back. _GaaAAaaaH!_ He just barely kept from voicing the primal howl that worked to free itself from the depths of his being in response, and jammed his hands into his pockets.

It was a dreadful journey. Cold. Wet. His shoes were utterly soaked through in minutes and the cars that passed by were deadly accurate in the way they managed to hit _every_ puddle, flinging an arc of dirty water over the side of him unerringly.

He grit his teeth, unable to do anything else as the sidewalk was the only place to walk, aside from the middle of the street. Water wouldn't kill him. Probably. Maybe he'd be throwing out this jacket though when all was said and done...

Come to think of it, why had he and Watari come to Japan? Living in one place or another was not essential for his line of work.

If they wanted inclement weather, they could have stayed in England.

Perhaps a change of scenery would come due very soon. Without Raito, there was no reason to stay. If they relocated, he'd at least be absolved of running into people like Aiber and Misa. He and Watari could go back to anonymity, no one knowing where they lived. It was good like that, wasn't it? Now L felt like too many people here knew who he was and it was unsettling.

What about Celia, though? If she and Watari were serious about each other... well, wouldn't that change everything? Would he and Watari even be able to live as they had, picking up and moving whenever it suited them, changing countries, living freely? She could always come with them, he supposed, but what of _her_ attachments and obligations? Was she tied here? Was he, through Watari, now bound to this place as well? If he and Raito were no more, would he be subjected to things like running into him unexpectedly, or seeing him with other people on his arm? That would be...

L jammed his hands deeper into his pockets, not liking that scenario one bit. _I'd have to move. I couldn't take it._ Headlights signaled a vehicle approaching. He was ready for it this time, turning away so that the spray was less effective.

Though he'd like to think that he and the brunet would remain in each other's acquaintance even if they were not a couple, he didn't know that Raito _did_ friendship. He did not seem in the habit of keeping people close to him... in fact, he had a rather solitary nature for one who practically lived in the limelight.  
_  
Well, isn't that contradictory of me. I'd want friendship, at least, and yet I wouldn't be able to bear being around him and would wish to move to be away from it all?_

L shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts; they often didn't make sense where the brunet was concerned, why should that start now? And there was no sense dwelling upon these things before he had more information at his disposal.

He turned onto the street upon which Raito lived. It was not a long street and he could soon see his destination. There was no car in the driveway. However, there was one at the curb, black and expensive from the look of it, under the street light. When he got closer, he saw someone coming out from the covered doorway of the house, though he couldn't say whether they'd actually been inside or not. He tucked back into a shadow, so as not to be so obvious, and watched the figure move toward the car. It was a female, wearing a long coat and high heels, a dark umbrella obscuring her face. L squinted at her. She'd have to fold that umbrella up to get into the car - maybe then he could see her face.

He waited, and sure enough, as she opened the front passenger door, the umbrella dipped down and it was a bright blonde head he saw ducking into the car.

Everything seemed to freeze around him. Even the rain seemed suspended.

_Damnit!_ He'd determined he wouldn't **feel** like this. He'd wanted to make sure that Raito was alright, even if it meant witnessing something unpleasant, but seeing Misa... his limbs felt like rubber and his stomach was sick. Rain kept pelting his head and face, but he couldn't feel more than the wetness of it.

Long after the black vehicle left, L prodded himself into motion and made his way to the door, sodden and eerie as if he'd just emerged from the ocean like some kind of Lovecraftian creature of the depths. He raised his hand to knock and half expected to see something trailing his arm like slime, seaweed or some other such thing, so weighed down did it feel. But there was nothing. And nothing but silence answered his knock.

He waited for several minutes and tried again.

There was only the sound of the wind-driven rain.

Either Raito was not at home, or he was not accepting any more visitors.

Raito's car was not here, but that did not mean that he himself wasn't. He was very carefree in that regard, not tied to his transportation like most. He'd often called for a driver or had walked places instead. His personal vehicle was not his only method of transport; he was not overly concerned with it.

L slouched back down the driveway and started the laborious journey home.

His mind was a wash. Nothing surfaced past the recycled din of everything he'd thought about prior. Muddled and useless.

He couldn't say whether any vehicles anointed him on the way back.

The house was just as dark and quiet when he arrived as when he left. The key turning the lock could not be heard over the rain, but the dripping of his clothes upon the floor sounded even louder to his ears than the deadbolt sliding home.

_Drip. Drip._

Drip drip drip.

Drip.

The jacket he'd thought of throwing out, but it would seem an odd item to find in the garbage bin. But there was little use in dripping it up the stairs if he wasn't set on keeping it. Nevertheless, he could hardly cast it off at the door in a sodden pile.

_Drip drip_, his clothing insisted.

He brushed his bangs, which were dripping just as insistently, out of his eyes and headed up the stairs. Closing his door, he kicked off his shoes which stubbornly clung to his feet, and started stripping off the layers of wet clothes. The room felt nearly claustrophobic, so much stuffier than it had been outside, though it was only because outside had been so wet and frigid.

He supposed he should shower. He didn't feel like it. It seemed too much trouble to go through and he was tired and just wanted to stop moving, stop thinking, stop _feeling_. So much easier to just dry the cold from his body and fall into bed for a few blissfully unconscious hours. At least, he could hope it would be that long.

The closet door was still ajar. He opened it and grabbed out a clean, long sleeved shirt and rubbed his face with it, and then his chest, stomach, arms, legs and back. He tossed it on top of the pile of wet clothes that were now residing in a growing puddle on the floor, and grabbed out another shirt, this one to wear. A pair of jeans found their way into his hands due to habit, but he tossed them back, not wishing to sleep in them, and pulled out a pair of drab grey boxers to put on instead.

When was the last time he had actually _wanted_ to sleep?

When had it ever seemed desirable to lose time that could be better spent elsewhere? When had sleep ever felt like an escape? A solace?

He hit the light, plunging the room back into darkness and made his way into bed.

Until the last several weeks, he couldn't say that he even liked sleep. Or needed it. Yet, beside Raito, sleep he _had_. And it was for longer than usual, and even seemed deeper and more sound.

And now, when sleep was something he wanted for the first time, L was suddenly afraid that he might have insomnia.

He rolled onto his side and pulled the comforter over his shoulder.

There was no scent of the brunet upon the pillows, the sheets had been changed long ago, but his memory of it was as strong as the sensory memory of Raito's lean body under his arm and the warmth of his neck and shoulder.

But his arms, in reality, were as empty as his bed. This sparked a feeling of great loss and he fought against it, deeming it ridiculous, and not conducive to restfulness. His eyes were screwed shut against it, and he forced himself to count sheep as an appropriate distraction.

His sheep looked nothing like sheep. And he couldn't really get a proper image of the fence they were supposed to jump over. In truth, all he could do was feel how very barren this bed was when he was alone in it, and his mind kept conjuring Raito within it. Raito's legs twining with his, Raito's hand tilting his face up into a melting kiss, Raito's body warm against his.

He gave up and crammed the bed's extra pillow beneath his arm, holding it to him as if it were the brunet and burying his face in it.

_This is so sad,_ he thought, wishing oblivion would come swiftly, before the tightness in his chest manifested further than the prickling in his eyes.

* * *

TBC

**A/N 2:** I felt this song went really well with some of L's pov.

Red - "**Nothing and Everything**" lyrics:

_Enemy, familiar friend  
My beginning and my end  
Broken truth, whispering lies  
And it hurts again  
What I fear and what I try  
Words I say and what I hide  
All the pain, I want it to end  
But I want it again_

_And it finds me  
The fight inside is coursing through my veins  
And it's raging  
The fight inside is breaking me again_

_It's still the same, pursuing pain  
Is it worth all I have gained  
We both know how it will end  
But I do it again_

_And it finds me  
The fight inside is coursing through my veins  
And it's raging  
The fight inside is hurting me again_

_And it finds me  
The war within me pulls me under  
And without you  
The fight inside is breaking me again_

_And it finds me  
The war within me pulls me under  
And without you  
The fight inside is breaking me__ again_

_Oh, it's everything__  
Oh, it's everything  
Oh, it's everything  
Oh, it's everything  
Oh, it's everything  
Oh_


	26. Lock and Key

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 26

* * *

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

**A/N: When you've hit bottom, there's nowhere left to go but up.**

That saying reminds me of L a lot from last chapter. Only last chapter he hadn't quite hit bottom. (I hear your fear at what's in store for him! Muahahaaa.) Contrary to popular belief, my sole purpose and joy in life is not tormenting L till he pops like a balloon. (Mentally.) Hahaha. Really. Not that you'll believe me. But I do tend to have a thing for displaying: "What can go wrong, _will_ go wrong." I keep thinking, _poor L_, too. I love him to pieces. And I love Raito to pieces (though that love comes with a strong urge to bitchslap).

The photo mentioned last chapter featuring L and Raito in a compromising display... I was asked if it was just them kissing, and told that that seemed pretty tame. I wondered if anyone else got that idea, and decided to address it here. As Raito was taking the pic of them _himself_, it would have been a close-up that indeed caught little more than their lip lock and scandalous expressions. However, out of the shot, there was full hands-on action. So if you think that a picture of two people kissing while one is handcuffed and getting a hand job from the other who is sadistic and on a power trip is tame... well, I guess it was tame. Lol. No nudity was visible or anything. Just porntasm expressions as things got hot and heavy.

The issue with Raito's phone not working - this will be addressed. Be patient, all will become clear. In time. :)

* * *

**Review Responses:**

**Supreme Dictator of the World** - if you really re-read several times (even if it isn't 50! Which would make you more like a world record breaker than a psycho. LOL) I would only ever manage to see you in a positive light. Surely you know that re-reading darkporn or 'highly dysfunctional' relationships means that you are perfectly well-adjusted? ;) I think it is really awesome, btw, that you were thinking about this fic during the times you weren't staring at it on the screen. In fact, that is one of the best things I could hear back as a writer. Thank you! :D

**Villagefox**- (Are you a Naruto fan, perchance? Your name makes me think so. ^_^) Points to you for using the word "diction". :)) hee. And I totally agree with your assessment about the abundance of PWPs and such on fic sites. It's for that reason that I really started writing a lot; I couldn't find anything I wanted to _read_. In fact, I often just re-read stories I reeeally liked rather than trying to search for new ones anymore. (One of which is Brilliance Tarnished. My version of Raito (or Light, later on in Balm) might never have come to pass had I never read those first few chapters of it. I was totally inspired. Raito/Light's character is such a perfect candidate for being Borderline Personality that it is actually really hard for me to see him any other way. (Therefore maybe I should challenge myself to do a very different version of him in another fic. I already have ideas for it.)

**Acaleyn** - No, I have not had any formal studies/training in psychology. I have a boundless interest in the subject, and even some skill in it, but I decided not to pursue a career in the field. I've been told I'm a great listener as well, a good trait for any couch therapist or psychologist, but the thought of listening to the same people day in and day out and having them listen to my advice and yet not TAKE it was untenable. I've already experienced this with friends of mine over the years, and I would surely go mad. _Don't_ ask for advice if you aren't going to take it, don't come back to me incessantly and talk about things as if we hadn't already had the conversation, and _don't_ (by god, _**don't**_) say each and every time, "You were right" and have that never impact your behavior or your willingness to give my advice a try. UAARGH.

So... yeah. No Psych degree for me. lol. I also had a fear that I would eventually get stalker-killed by a crazy client. Being a criminal psychologist would have been awesome though. I was just afraid that since jobs are so limited and sought after, I'd be stuck next to a couch, wanting to throttle whomever was in it. And these people can go on for years! My beta's coworker for instance, was unhappy in her marriage (knowing it was a mistake after 3 months) of 25 years, and has been talking to her therapist for 10 YEARS! Just this year though, the therapist broke down and cut her off. LOL. I'm surprised they lasted that long!

As I mentioned to the person above, the only thing I had in mind was that Light in general was going to be written as person who is Borderline. I felt he was a good candidate for this in the manga, and it really just stuck with me. L, I never really had any such plan, although his personality stems from how I saw him in the manga combined with how he would need to be in order to be functional with a Borderline type person. He needs to be quick on his feet, and understand what is meant, rather than what is said or done, for instance. (If I had to name a PD, looking back, he would probably fall under Avoidant PD.) Enneagramically, I could see L as a 5 or 6, perhaps one being a subtype of the other. Raito is probably a strong 8, maybe subtype 1. You know what would be fun? Taking a test for it and answering as either of them. ^_^

**Yellowrose87** - _"It made me goggle when L thought of himself as "abandoned." He's the one who - understandably - is keeping Raito at arm's length!"_ (LOL I kept reading that as "google" ;P) Well, this is a great example of L's dilemma. He initiated the break, and yet he feels that separation so strongly as to feel abandoned. It **is** nonsensical. It is an emotional response. I think he has as much trouble with that very thing, an emotional, nonsensical reaction to something, as he does with his feelings towards Raito. ((P.S. LOVED the novel length review. ^_^)

Yes, Celia did give off that awkward stepparent vibe. Lol. I was going for that. EPIC awkward. Heh. I'm not sure yet, but if possible, I would like to spend some time on resolving the 'parents' Watari and Celia with the boys' relationship. That dinner they all had together had me in stitches, and seeing as it was very passive aggressive as well, it would be nice to see a rehashing of the whole dynamic. Like, _will_Raito behave? Will he stop being PA to Watari and play nice? Or will he be worse and tease L out in the open to entertain himself?

_"It's like L magnetically attracts all the people in the world that can torment him, including Raito."_ LOL! XD It is a little like that, isn't it? What luck that poor boy has. And it is funny that you mention Aiber again and his part which may be nearing its end. I can't tell you why though.

_""And that temper - was it so volatile because he cared?"__ Sigh. Only with Raito would the answer be yes, as opposed to a firm, "No, you're deluded, he's just an abusive prick who's not that into you."__Although the abusive prick part's pretty spot on :P_" This was fantastic. I thought about this many times after reading it.

**Waterwitch666** - Thank you! ^.^ You may like A Balm for Social Failure, but the other fics I have written are done with a different voice and less dark vibes. More lighthearted, I guess you could say? Or... angst with less crazy, and a dash of humor? ;P

**Behan** - _"What was with that look Abier gave L? I wonder what the heck was on his mind. Somehow i have a feeling that maybe Abier was remembering that time he was in the closet spying on raito and L getting on."_ Indeed he was. :) Poor guy. I can't help but feel bad for him, even if he is a prick. _"Doesn't L look like a kicked puppy in the rain? T_T"_ Heehee. Yeah, I suppose he does. Poor thing. _"I just love how you wrote L as he got home. L was sooo lifeless, dead, like someone took out his heart and stomped on it on the floor while he just watched it happen."_ And I felt sooooo bad about that, too. T_T I'm glad you really liked it. I'm trying hard to portray both of their emotions and feelings towards each other through things like this. I want to make it obvious through actions, and not words that they are both head over heels for each other.

**Princess of Oblivion** - They'll meet soon, I swear! Please, no stress-induced hair loss. lol. _"Celia was kinda cute in her kinda awkward attempts to comfort L and get him to open up to them."_I kinda thought so, too. Even though it had the awkward stepparent vibe. :)

**Amecestris** - _"This chapter is so depressing. And I think it's a good mark that your writing infected my mood."_Oh, I love hearing things like this. I think the ultimate in any creative work is to make people feel something. Or to make them think, or consider your work when away from it. Thank you for relaying that to me. (It makes me feel accomplished! Sorry for the negative impact on your mood though.) _"I feel so so bad for L. For someone as "new" to social interaction as he is, I suppose Raito's a bit too much for him (like jumping into the deep end of the pool without knowing how to swim)"_ YES. Great summarization. :D

**Saji** - I know, reviews take time. I understand how it is. I feel the same way about review responses. If only time could be boundless! . We should revolt! Demand more time from the powers that be, or request a time machine or... something... to uh... make time more abundant. Yeah. ^_^;

Thank you for breaking out a chunk of time to write such a sweet review. I was really touched when you said, _"When I woke up the other day not so bright eyed and bushy tailed and wanting nothing more then to pass back out, when my phone alerted me to Pitches update I cannot even describe the happiness I felt and it's no exageration to say the thought of being able to read it 16+hrs later got me through the day."_ T_T D'aawww. I know what it is like to have something like a story, book, or show get you through the day. Also, _"No one has been able to write Light in all his yummy sadomasochistic glory like you have"_LOL. What a description heehee. I thank you. (Try Brilliance Tarnished, if you haven't already. kktwin's Light is pretty twisted like that too.)

**Orangeducttape** - "_AAAHHH POOR L. Now I just feel terribly sorry for the both of them.__I mean, I pitied L and first and then Raito was like, sadface, so I felt bad for /him/, and now here's L on the verge of tears FOREVER.__WHO SHOULD I CHOOSE?_" Ahhahahaa! On the verge of tears FOREVER, that _killed_ me. I was snickering over that intermittently for like an hour. And the whole point I am trying to get across IS to make you waffle back and forth over who is in the right, and who is being unreasonable, and that the situation looks very different depending on whose head you are in. :D

_"Watari took that thing about Raito rather well. I was expecting him to be angry or disapproving. Or maybe he is, just not outwardly."_Ah, he was not reacting outwardly. I am looking forward to giving a peek into his head. Maybe I will get to write "Awkward family style dinner, Part duex".

_"Also, did L ever actually say anything to Misa? or did he just stare like ;-; until she got creeped out and left? Oh L."_ He was a creeper. But he was an in-hiding stealth creeper. She didn't see him. _"Everytime I see an update, it's like, AHAHAHAHA YES. So please update soon so my maniacal laughter may echo throughout the household once more." _Bwahahaa! XD The image of that is just priceless! XD XD

**Cu-kid** - _"I really felt for L, torn about what to do and unable to come to a satisfying decision. I imagine it would be something that's difficult for him; not just because this is his first deeply emotional relationship, but also because he's so used to being rational and being able to analyze most situations with some amount of detachment."_ Then my goal has been accomplished. ^_^ I don't think there is an easy answer. And I want you guys to try and figure out what you would do if you were in L's shoes. What would you find acceptable or inexcusable? How far would you go? What would you sacrifice or what would you forgive?

**Vertically-Lacking** - _"What a coincedence; in class today we went over unhealthy relationships and I couldnt help thinking back to this story."_ Oh, this gave me a good laugh. Thank you. XD XD XD

_"When will they finally see eachother again? it feels like their worlds apart..honestly it's making me pretty sad."_ They _are_ worlds apart. :(( I'm sorry I can't tell you _when_they will meet up again, but it will be very very soon.

**Smirking Menace** - _"Those two and their annoying "admirers" have the worst. Timing. Ever. Argh... so frustrating!"_ Heh. That they do. Oh, and here is an interesting tidbit for you: Raito was not at home, but he was also not at his parents' house. His parents do not live that far away, and he would have had reception there. 0_0

_"I knew it! I could pratically hear Linkin Park again still the whole time L was Emo-ing! His apocalyptic scenarios were just the cherry on top."_ :D

**DaJapican** - _"Light could make this reunion go a hell of a lot faster if he just presented L with Misa dismembered corpse as an apology. Nothing says I'm sorry better than the corpse of your love rival. :3 " _...Egad. Dismemberment? . While I don't think the normal 'flowers say ilu' will work in this case, corpses and body parts would certainly backfire on Raito. Plus, ew. (lol. The sentiment is appreciated, though!)

_"It breaks my little heart to see poor L suffer like that. T^T To make matters worse Celia seem to caught on with her old people instincts. I swear those old lady can see right through you some times. ^_^'_" Heh. I know what you mean. Some of them have some great instincts and perception.

**Thoughtless** -_"i never thought i'd say this but.. poor L. it seems he copes with all this even worse than Raito does. and this thing with walking in the rain to Raito's house.. it's kinda pathetic and miserable. and i won't be surprised if he gets ill during next days."_Agreed. Maybe due to his lack of experience with people and the fact that Raito is a level 2000 boss-type instead of a standard level 20 or 30 like other people. Poor L, skipping straight to the boss level in his game of social interaction. Orz.

_"that blond girl walking off Raito's house - it wasn't Misa, right? i guess it was Hal."_ No, it was Misa. If you look at that part again, you will see Misa's name mentioned once.

**Moonphase 9**- I know I don't _have_ to reply. But I** want** to. Though I may have to stop. Time... is... fading... out. Ugh.

"Man I feel so sorry for L. At the same time, I'm glad he's beginning to put things in perspective (ie Misa not being that important) whilst Light is realising what mistakes he's made." Character development! :D I think they are both improving in the way they are seeing things, which can only help their struggling relationship.

**Cherrymelodie**- _ "I really like Celia, I've never read a story where Watari has a love interest so it's refreshing to see at least one relationship that's working out nicely :)"_ Come to think of it, neither have I. I don't even know how it came about that I started writing her, but that happens to me a lot. OCs or random events just pop out. I don't question it anymore, I just go with it. Lol.

_"I imagine her with white stylish hair and old lady elegant make up, and scarves! Of course she would wear scarves XD"_ I really like your description of her. :)

**LYnM**- _"i thought Aiber would jump out of the bushes or be in his room when he got back...makes me think of horror movies..."_So I guess I succeeded in making everyone suspect Aiber to be lurking around every corner, ready to pounce! Haha. Even my beta made a comment similar to yours and was surprised he didn't show up. I think by now it has become near comical to me - his sneak potential and ability to pop up like a jack-in-the-box.

_"and L has noted Aiber's reaction, a little more input and he'l figure it out...and Light will rue the day he took it into his head to do 'that'...may be am missing something here but Aiber has come across L after that incident so why such a look now?"_ Ah, no. That really was the first time L and Aiber came face to face. I even just double-checked. I too am wondering if L won't get the chance to figure it out. All he'll need, as you said, is a bit more input. Can you imagine how _that_ will blow over?

I do plan to write Watari's reaction to L and Raito having a relationship. And yes, Celia will probably have a dampening affect on any negative response Watari has. Mainly, Watari doesn't like Raito. But Celia does. So... She'll keep him in line. We've already seen him deflate under her critical staaaare.

* * *

**A/N:** The last few weeks have been insane. I think I responded to everyone, but if I missed anyone, please let me know. It was unintentional if I did. I may not get the chance to try responding to all or any reviews in the future for the sake of getting chapters out, but we'll see. I really enjoyed reading your words and impressions, as always. Thank you thank you. You are all super awesome and I mean that.

One more thing - I know this fic has gotten dreadfully heavy, ANGSTy, and all, but it will not be this way forever. Unfortunately, events just progressed the way they did, and sometimes (like in life) things can really become a thick blanket of SUCK. The trick is finding your way out from under. (Note: Red reference. Did you get it? Lol. I love them so. Freaking awesome music.)

Excerpt from the song** "Out from Under"** by Red:

_Knocked off my feet  
The earth moved beneath  
The edge of a dream and a nightmare  
Open the door  
Fell through the floor  
Slipped through the cracks into nowhere_

So tell me where were you  
When everything fell down like thunder  
I begged you to pull me through  
I couldn't get out from under

Go listen to the song. Youtube it or something. :)

The real song for this chapter will be in the author's note at the end.

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 26: (Lock and Key)

L didn't sleep long. Maybe two hours.

The promise of solace was rather anticlimactic if he did say so himself. He dragged himself out of bed, feeling like hell, but knowing further sleep would be impossible.

A shower was necessary. Filthy rain water wasn't something he wanted to luxuriate in by leaving it indefinitely upon his person.

Grabbing more clean clothes, he headed to the bathroom. _Why didn't I shower first?_ he wondered with irritation. Now he would have to clean the sheets yet _again_.

He made quick work of showering, dressed in clothes nearly identical to the ones he'd been wearing before, only this time he put on the jeans. Damp hair dripped in his face, which he ignored as he sat in front of his computer, trying to achieve the mental state that would allow him to process facts and trends and decipher the secrets that lay waiting to be discovered with regard to his current cases.

He felt punchy and a little woozy, as if he really needed more sleep.  
_  
Ridiculous._

The real problem was that he'd been slowly losing his ability to hyper focus. It had been slipping away from him the past few weeks. He needed to get back into the groove. He needed to block out everything that was not pertinent to a case. He needed to erase the presence of people, erase his tracking of day and night and time, erase the need for food and drink. All that he needed was in front of him: pixels of light, the keys beneath his pale, spidery hands, the facts that he accumulated, and the speculations that formed from his probing thoughts.

Finally, finally, he felt himself slipping into it.

Like jumping into a pool of water, he felt the cool submersion into purely analytical thought surround him, and he embraced it. Interpersonal issues, emotions and other such superfluous things fell away and he was free again. Unfettered. Aseptic. Purposeful. Calm.

L worked in a near manic state for hours. How many, he wasn't sure.

The only thing that had broken the trance was Watari knocking softly and opening the door. L registered the intrusion with some distant part of his mind, but he did not allow it to break his focus nor interrupt the punishingly fast cadence of his fingers upon the keyboard. Dimly, he was aware that the older man was asking him something about food. He nodded and Watari left.

Some time later, a plate of food was placed before him. He mumbled a thank you as he ran another background check on the Yotsuba client. _Interesting..._

He pushed the food aside and began typing again in earnest.

* * *

A muffled, yet insistent noise called L's attention to it. He was loath to be interrupted, but the mechanical chirping of his phone was not something to be ignored. He'd trained himself that way by necessity - it was one of the few things that could break the spell when he was really engrossed in his work.

He cursed softly in distracted irritation as he realized the phone was not within reach. His mind remained firmly glued in his case even as he got up to search for the source of the disturbance. It was as if his mind was wired into the computer. The further away he got, the stronger the pull.

He found the shiny red phone eventually, but it had stopped ringing.

He flipped it open with disinterest and saw the missed call and an alert that a voicemail had been received. It was no number he recognized.

Instead of calling the person back, he started playing the voicemail so he could see if this was something that needed to be dealt with urgently or whether he could put it off as he would have liked.

_'Hello, L, this is Hal Lidner. I need to speak with you regarding your employment with us. Please call me back at your earliest convenience. I promise it will be brief.'  
_  
L was tempted to file the call under 'deal with later', but he had the niggling feeling that he should just take care of this now. Besides, he was a little curious as to what Hal wished to discuss. He supposed it could be about some case or other they needed him to look into. Aiber may be one of their detectives, but it seemed as though the blond was not being utilized in that capacity any longer. It was just a guess however, judging by the acquaintance the man kept with Misa, the tiny bits of information he'd gleaned from Raito's conversation that day at the office as they'd all stood in the break room, and the social engagement he'd witnessed at the restaurant last night. Aiber was being groomed for a higher position than 'detective'. Perhaps something approaching the brunet's standing.

L called the number back. _At least I won't have to play telephone tag if I call back right away, he thought, looking on the bright side. Then I can get back to-_

"Lidner," a female voice stated with the sound of shuffling papers in the background.

"This is L," he said simply. "You called?" He appreciated her lack of 'polite', meaningless small talk. Filler wasted time and breath.

"L, hi," Hal said in a warmer tone, as if she liked him. Which, he supposed, she might. Well, according to Raito, not to mention his own observations. "I'm sorry to bother you when you're probably working, but I need you to come by the office."

Leaving the house was **the** last thing L felt inclined to do.

"What for?" he asked.

"Well, I have the paperwork ready for your termination of contract, but you'll need to come in to sign it."

L said nothing for a minute or two, trying to process such an unexpected thing. Termination? He'd yet to work on a single case. Not that he wanted or needed to have a second job, but Raito had for some reason deemed it necessary... "I did not request such a thing," he said quizzically.

"Raito thought you might want to end your employment and asked me to make preparations."

L blinked, feeling as if cold water had been splashed in his face. Why _now_? After all his protestations, and Raito's ignoring of such, why was he _now _being told that he could quit?

A thread of discord began creeping into his sterile, emotionless world. A seemingly innocuous strand that would surely compromise the future of his hard-won composure. It was a thin streak of color in his monochromatic world. Dangerous.

"Why would I want to do that?" he asked in an inflectionless voice.

"It's not my place to speculate," she said. "You are merely being given the option."

Was Raito cutting him loose? Was he distancing himself? Was this just another sign that their own relationship, not just as employee and employer, was at an end? Or could this be seen as something positive? Was Raito trying to make amends by allowing him to free himself from the job he'd never wanted?

The more the name _Raito_ arose, the more he felt stress cracks forming in the buffering shell he'd reconstructed around himself. The lockbox he'd shoved memories of the brunet into was starting to open and anxiety was pouring from its maw like tendrils of heavy fog. It sullied his fortress, and it crept across the floor, seeking him.

"Is Raito there? Can I speak to him?"

He needed to lay this to rest, one way or another, and there was only one person who could do that for him. Unfortunately, that person was hard to get a hold of these days. He didn't know why he hadn't thought of calling the office before. Of course Raito would be at work-

"I'm sorry, he hasn't come in today."

Strange. It was so very strange. First the phone and now this. Granted, he hadn't tried calling the brunet again today to see if the message was the same... but if it was, there was a possibility he could find out something at the office.

It was 11:30 a.m.

"What time should I come in?" he asked her.

"Whenever you like. I'll be here." There was a brief pause and the sound of pages of paper being turned. "Oh, but I do have a meeting at 4:30, so you might want to come before then."

"I'm in the middle of something at the moment, but I'm sure I can make that."

* * *

L arrived at the office building around 4 p.m. He felt tired, as was evidenced by the darkened bruises under his eyes and was not in the mood to be doing this right now. After he'd spoken with Hal, he'd had trouble picking up where he'd left off on the case, his thread of concentration having been severed. He'd stubbornly fought to regain it, but had only made real progress for a very short time.

He didn't like this place with its echoing halls and artificiality. People glided through the building with purpose, fake expressions, and resounding hollowness.

He'd dressed the part, so they paid him no mind.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

It also helped that he minded his poor posture and also kept a neutral expression on his face. It was a different permutation of his poker face, but one that had been serving him well in more social venues. People's eyes caught on to true blankness, but having a trace of an expression, any expression at all, let their eyes slide past.

This place... it felt so different being here without the brunet at his side. And it was nearly surreal, the way his mind was extending outward, probing as if he could find Raito through the maze and walls of it with mere thought, yet he knew that the person he sought was not present. There was a flavor like disappointment on his tongue and a frown threatened to mar the mask he wore.

Hal. Maybe she knew something. And even if she was not inclined to share, he ought to be able to gain some insight from being face-to-face with her. Expressions and body language usually carried a wealth of information.

Purpose allowed him to move among the people without dwelling too much upon them. Without a goal in mind, the influx of humanity was likely to have made him feel claustrophobic and put-upon. He would be more focused on them, their assessments of him, and the idea that they expected him to _**do**_ something if they stared at him hard enough.

His stride slowed as he realized he did not know exactly where Hal's office _was_. This was the correct floor, he was sure, but... He looked at the branching hallway. Was it left? Or was it right? It had only been pointed out to him once, in passing, with a generalized wave of a hand instead of a pointed finger, so it was not entirely useful or specific.

"Hey. You-" someone called out.

They could have been speaking to anyone, but he knew that feminine voice._ Misa._He wasn't sure she was speaking to him, however. He decided not to check and kept walking.

"You-" her voice sounded closer, and falsely congenial. "L, isn't it?"

_Damnit._ His feet slowed to a reluctant stop. Just her voice was enough to put him on edge and flashed countless scenes upon his eyes. If he ever heard or saw her again, it would be too soon. She was the epitome of falsehood.

"Yes?"

He turned to meet her and was struck again by the shine of golden hair and clear, sparkling blue eyes. Their appearances were polar opposites. And she almost seemed to regard him as some kind of lowly bug. She wasn't obvious about it as she stood before him in a puff-sleeved mulberry colored skirt suit that fit her like a glove, but he caught it in the random downward quirks at the corners of her smiling mouth.

She renewed that smile, ratcheting it up with blinding intensity, before asking, "Have you spoken to Raito recently?"

He felt a frown form on his face. _Odd. Why would she ask_ me_ that?_He could tell by her manner that she was not rubbing anything in, she really was asking him. The bright smile was hiding her irritation and embarrassment at having to do so. _  
_  
Then perhaps she _hadn't_ successfully seen Raito the other night?_  
_  
"I have not," he responded simply.

Visibly, she seemed to deflate and a little frustration crept into her expression. "And I suppose you wouldn't know where he is either?"

He shook his head to indicate he did not.

A frown blossomed on her refined, cherubic features. "Where could he be?" she said under her breath, her eyes flicking around the immediate area as if Raito might be hiding in plain view. "And after we just got back together..." she pouted.

Those words hit L like a punch to the gut.

In fact, they crashed through the dome of the shell he'd built back up around himself, which had allowed him to separate from his emotions, dropping upon it like a bomb and blowing a gaping hole in it.

The reaction shot through him with a vengeance. _Anger, fear, betrayal, hurt._ He could see it in her eyes and her demeanor - she and Raito had also become_ physically _involved.

"I'm sorry," she said, startling him momentarily when he thought she may have seen something given away in his face. "I'm not even sure why I'm asking _you_," she continued sheepishly, emphasizing the '_you_' in a way that furthered his impression that she thought him lower in status than a bug. She was so dismissive in her manner when the truth peeked through the holes in her solicitous act. "But the two of you seemed friendly enough..." she added distractedly.

She shook her head then, dispelling the moment and affixing an affable smile to her face to cover, once again, her inadequacy. To ask something to which you did not know the answer, but should, is showing weakness. That she was now paired with Raito, yet did not know where he was... This was... even more strange. It was nearly enough to shake the anguish that was threatening to crush him. All was not as it seemed. He would see this through before allowing himself to speculate further.

"Enough about me," she said, weaving her glamour around herself like a shield and waving the matter away with a dismissive hand. "Why are you here?" her tone, too, had been repaired and was nothing but pleasantly inquisitive.

"I'm meeting with Hal Lidner." L sensed an opportunity. "Do you know where her office is?" He might as well ask her instead of a random stranger. Besides, Hal would need to go to her meeting in not too much longer.

"I do." Misa perked up as she dutifully began giving him directions. Having information he wanted made her feel superior again, erasing her compromised status from before. "You know what? Nevermind," she interrupted herself. "Why don't I just take you there? I'd like to ask her something myself." There was something of a determined glint to her eye.

L would have preferred finding it on his own, but she obviously had her own agenda and was not asking his opinion on the matter.

He followed the petite blonde through the halls, noting that her social act (not to mention her appearance) got nearly as much attention as Raito's.

Again there was a sharp pain in his chest as his thoughts drifted over the brunet. _I know she's attractive and all, but did you have to __**sleep**__ with her?_ he asked the brunet in his head. Misa's high heels made a smart tapping upon the floor and her hair swished back and forth across her back like a shining curtain. He couldn't stop from applying the new knowledge he had - and he could nearly picture her and the brunet together, wearing nothing but bare skin, and it made him ill. Severely so._ Raito would be smiling up at her with the sinful gaze he'd plied me with all those times..._

"Here we are," Misa announced, turning to him smartly.

In his mind's eye, he watched again the time she'd visited Raito on his birthday, wearing hardly anything, and pressing her lips to his. He saw again how the brunet did not trouble himself to evade her advance.

He could barely recall Raito's spirited rants now about how much he couldn't stand her.

"Hello, Hal, how are you?" Misa was saying, having stepped inside the office while he was distracted.

"I'm fine," the other woman said from inside the room. "What can I do for you?"

"Not much for small talk, are you?" Misa said off-handedly. L could tell it was meant to be a criticism.

"No, I suppose not."

"You're direct and to the point," Misa said. "I like that." It was said with a smile in her voice but L could tell it was a lie. She was offended, but wanted to smooth Hal over so she could get something she wanted.

"Thank you, Miss Amane."

"You're welcome," Misa said warmly. "I'd better be going. I just dropped by to say hi. Oh, and you have a visitor." She poked her head out and waved L over.

Before reaching the doorway, he saw Misa pause, her hand on the frame. "Hal, one more thing - have you seen Raito?"

He heard the other woman say something to the contrary.

"Okay then, thank you." Misa was all bubbles and sunshine. L slanted a glance at her out of the corner of his eye as he stepped into the office and saw that her face had become closed and angry.

"Good afternoon, Hal," he said formally, not really knowing what else could be said. He wanted to ask about Raito as well, but he wondered if he really hoped to receive a different response.

"Hello, L, thank you for coming. Close the door and have a seat."

He did as he was bidden, and sat.

He stared dully at the blonde woman and waited for her to say or do something. He felt wretched. There was too much to take in, too much going on inside his head, all of it revolving around Raito. She was regarding him thoughtfully.

"You look horrible," she said amiably.

"Thank you," he responded sarcastically. "It's always nice to hear such flattery."

She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling. "That's the L I know and love." She propped her chin on her hand and looked a bit wistful. "It's a shame you'll be leaving us. We've hardly been able to talk."

"I do believe our longest conversation was when you were impersonating someone else," he offered.

She grinned, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, yes, that_ was_ enjoyable. Sometimes Raito does have good ideas."

Again, the brunet's name stung him. "Unfortunately, I need to keep this brief as well," L said, monitoring his expressions so as not to give anything away.

"You're right, there isn't much time." She rifled through some paperwork and produced a bundle which she gave to him. "I think Raito quit," she said softly, startling him. "He wanted to give you the option of leaving as well, since he was the one that brought you on. No one really knows yet."

Quit? As in, his last link with the brunet had been severed? His mind started racing and it was hard to speak evenly. "Why are you telling me this?" How would he contact Raito now? This was the last thing he'd had - the last open connection. Could she be wrong? She had to be wrong! If not, what was he supposed to do? Was Raito pulling completely out of his reach?

She scoffed at him. "I don't think he'd mind me telling you."

"Did he say anything to you?" Desperation was kept firmly out of his voice. There had to be something more to this - surely she knew something more and would be telling him any moment now-

"Nope. But that's just how he is."

His mind was like white static. She knew nothing? It was all speculation? "Then how do you know?" If Raito were to pull such a disappearing act, he was going to do it without leaving a trace and telling no one. But to what end? Why would he be doing this?

She'd picked up a pen and was tapping it against her lip as she watched him. "Raito is very meticulous. Maybe no one else has noticed it, but he's been tying up loose ends."  
_  
He's slipping through my fingers._

"Why didn't you tell Misa any of this?" Why would Hal tell him any of this and not Misa? He ground his teeth around what he had to ask next. He didn't want to, but he had to know for sure... "The two of them are dating again, are they not?" It burned in his throat, those words, but he got them out in a bland tone, just as he'd wanted.

She continued tapping the pen against her lip, a somewhat stormy expression brewing on her face. "Yeah, it doesn't make any sense. He doesn't even like her."

L felt a pensive frown slip over his face before he could stop it. Was that the sound of his world shattering in the background?

Hal caught the fleeting expression, her own becoming stricken. "He... didn't tell you, did he?" she said slowly, horrified. "That little bastard," she said with fire and regret. "He has no tact in that senseless head of his." Her blonde head was shaking back and forth, a hand raising to pinch the bridge of her nose, looking much like a parent whose beloved child had been caught doing something out of hand.

"I just found out, actually," he admitted, wondering why he was having trouble playing mum with this young woman. He wasn't in the habit of spilling his guts, yet he felt he was in danger of doing so. _Good thing her meeting is in less than 5 minutes._

"From Misa?" Her pained look intensified, radiating concern for him. "Did she know you were involved with him?"

He shook his head and focused on looking like he was okay. He needed to dispel her sympathy before it made him break down. "It was an aside. She has no idea."

Hal looked at her watch and a slight scowl crossed her face. "Rats," she said regretfully. "I have to go." She gave him another long, good look, evaluating him while he maintained his _I'm-ok _mask, then came around the desk and gave him a brief hug where he sat in the chair. "Don't be a stranger," she said finally, in a way that conveyed her wish to comfort him somehow.

He was glad she didn't say something like 'Take care of yourself'. He didn't think he'd be able to withstand pity.

"Oh! I almost forgot." She reached over to the highly piled desk for something. "This was in your mailbox." Her manner was becoming that of a professional once more, disengaging from the empathy that was a little awkward between them. "I figured you probably wouldn't think to check it." She dropped a small envelope on top of the paperwork in his lap. "You can mail the stuff back when you're done with it, or you can bring it back by. Gotta run!" she ruffled his hair lightly, almost affectionately, before leaving her office at a steady clip. She was barely going to make her meeting on time, by the looks of it.

L sat motionless and detached for several minutes before he eventually picked up the curious little blank envelope. He was surprised to find it had some weight to it.

He flipped it over and the reverse was blank as well.

Opening it up, he found it was a key that gave the envelope its heft. There was nothing special about it. It was a brassy color and had been loose inside a folded piece of blank paper. _Why would someone place this in my box?_ Who was it from? What was it for? Absently, he flattened the tri-folded piece of paper.

He started as he saw it was not blank at all. At the lower right corner was a small gothic 'L' drawn with nearly anal precision.

The 'L' blurred as his hands began to shake and his heart started pounding in his chest. Suddenly the paper and the key felt very different in his hands. They were a message from Raito.

He shouldn't be this affected - blood rushing so fast through his veins like quicksilver. He shouldn't feel this hopeful or anxious all at once, his stomach curling into knots even as his spirit lifted in expectation. But for the first time in a great while, he felt as if Raito were communicating to him directly -and only to him- touching his mind with the riddle he'd presented, as if words were unnecessary to convey what needed to be said. Like when they'd first met; it had begun with riddles and tests.

It was a level of communication that he'd only ever experienced with the brunet, and one that he found himself craving. Like a drug, the effects of it were skittering through his system and heightening it through the challenge presented. And a small part of him acknowledged the other emotion lurking beneath the others - the shuddering relief that that the brunet had arranged such a thing to find its way to him. It felt like it might be a forgiveness of this distance L had forced between them. Like receiving a candid gaze and an extended hand. Now he just had to discover the meaning.

He lifted the paper up, searching for something more, any clue as to the significance of the key, or its purpose.

The paper appeared wholly blank. He ran his fingertips over it, the smooth paper gliding underneath them. He flipped it over and did the same. Nothing. Except... Just at the bottom, there was a slightly raised texture.

Putting the employee separation paperwork and the envelope aside, he went to Hal's desk and searched for a pencil.

Drawer after drawer was bursting with files, paperwork and notes. He found some pens, but that wasn't what he needed. It had to be graphite.

He'd nearly given up when he found the stub of a pencil wedged in the corner of a lower drawer. It took some doing to pry it free but, with the assistance of a letter opener, he finally unearthed it. Luckily, it had a good point on it.

He turned the pencil on its side and ran the lead lightly over the ridges he'd felt on the paper. He was careful to keep the application even and patiently darkened it in successive passes.

What that revealed was letters and numbers. Backwards, of course, as the writing would have been pressed there from the front of the page. He glanced around the office and located a small mirror hanging upon an abbreviated wall. Holding the paper up to the reflective surface, he stared at the address he'd uncovered. Wako City. That was in the Saitama Prefecture, if he wasn't mistaken, just north of Tokyo.

Voices outside of the office made him shove the paper quickly into his pocket. There must be a reason Raito went to such lengths to make his message so ambiguous. The hidden address, the lack of message, the abstaining from leaving his name... The only clues to another party would be the scripted L and that the envelope had been left for him in his company mailbox. But the envelope did not appear tampered with and no one else would understand the meaning of the 'L'. Only he and Raito would know the reference to the same sort of 'L' which L had sloppily scribbled onto that first coaster at the bar, as well as the one Raito had beautifully crafted upon the back as a mockery.

If this packet had been intercepted, at most, the person might discover the address. But that was as unlikely as that same person going to great lengths to see who or what might be at that address.

L grabbed up the paperwork and the envelope and exited the office.  
_  
Raito had communicated with him._He still felt a rush of adrenaline over it. He still had a connection. The brunet had manifested one when all others had eventually closed off and dried up.

And the truly insane thing about it was... Raito had still managed not to violate L's request not to contact him in any way. A key and an address could hardly be seen as such. It was more of an invitation than anything else.

He could almost dismiss the news regarding Misa. At least for now. The main thing was that Raito was showing him deferential treatment and that all was not lost. If he discovered he still had any sort of footing with the brunet, _then_ he could ask for an accounting, for explanations, and possibly even penance.

_Oh, if I am given that chance, I may want to wring his neck._

It wasn't to say that the stabbing pangs in his chest over the infidelity had dissipated. They _hadn't_, and were still full force if he allowed himself to dwell upon the knowledge or wonder about the circumstances, the how, why and when of it. He grit his teeth and pushed it into the back of his mind, placing it under lock and key. It was counter-productive to let that information have free reign at this time. All it did was upset him, and upset was pointless at this stage. His goal at this time was merely to find this address, and possibly even Raito.

* * *

Misa trailed off in her conversation to one of the secretaries about shoes, and watched the detective L slouch down the hall from the direction of Hal's office.

He had a strange look on his face, not one she could place, but it looked like he might be up to something. Her eyes narrowed and she felt a pull to follow him. The pale, messy haired man looked incongruous with his surroundings and in fact looked discomfited by them. He did not speak to or make eye contact with anyone he passed.

"Miss Amane?"

Misa shushed and dismissed her with a lazy sweep of her hand, eyes locking onto her target. She fell into line with L, from a good enough distance that her heels would not be loud enough to be noticed. Partly she could control that from how she walked. Stepping down hard made a sharp, confident noise that was fantastic at getting people's attention and admiring gazes. It was like an announcement that someone important was coming through. But it was unnecessary just now. So she tread lightly and evaded much of the usual fanfare in favor of seeing what the eccentric looking detective was up to.

Why had Raito become friends with someone like him?

Raito didn't really do the friends thing in the first place. She couldn't think of a single other person he could claim as such. His standard behavior seemed to be expending all of his exceptional charm upon those he needed to win over or form alliances with for work, and then keeping to himself once the day was done and he could return home. She was the only exception there. Or, at least, she _had_ been.

She fought to keep a scowl from forming on her face, cognizant of the role she held among the people here, and not wanting to spoil it.

It wasn't that she didn't want the brunet to have any friends. She had many herself. Friends could be useful.

It was just that... there was something about _this_ particular friend, not to mention that this kind of relationship was unprecedented for Raito. It was a connection outside of work. And she'd seen for herself that he had even gone so far as to invite the detective over his parents' house on his birthday. She'd thought that was strange, but of course he'd had a perfectly plausible explanation. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was actually... _jealous_ of this L character.

She glared covertly at the back of his head, wondering how his black, spiky hair managed to defy gravity to such an extent and how such a physical trait might be more appealing than her own sleek, light hair. It looked disorderly. Unprofessional. And it was also not particularly seductive. These things were _important_, weren't they?

Continuing her silent inspection of him, she did admit that he dressed pretty well, and that his almost anorexically thin frame actually worked for him. His eyes were dark and ridiculously huge, she remembered from speaking to him earlier. _Ok, fine, so he has a few things going for him, but he is still inferior. Inferior__** and**__ only a friend.  
_  
Argh. At times like this, she really wished she could claim that Raito would never become involved with someone of the same gender. But she couldn't, even if she wanted to, because she knew of several instances where it just wasn't so. She chewed at her lip. However, those times always stood to gain them something. So that didn't mean Raito would seek out such a thing in his personal time. It was probably only for work.

He was so dedicated.

_Plus, it was__** me**__ he was sleeping with not long ago,_she thought at the back of L's head smugly. _You wouldn't know the first thing about anything like__** that**__._

Of all the people she'd been with, Raito was the sexiest, most suave and perfect. It had really cramped her style when he'd decided to end things between them and she'd had to make due with that snot Ito. She'd only dated him to please Raito, whom she was convinced would come to his senses when he saw that she was indeed the best thing out there.

He was probably just having a case of nerves. Her father could lay on quite a lot of pressure. It was also no secret that both of them were interested in securing Raito for their family.

Misa had not been keen on the idea of getting pregnant in order to do it, so she ignored her father's instructions there. What did she want a baby for? Then she'd have to take care of it. Besides, it was laughable that her father thought such a trick would even be necessary. Who could possibly be more suited to the brunet than herself? And who would have as many useful connections as she did? He'd be a complete fool to pass all of that up. Not to mention the position her father was grooming him for.

Still, she couldn't pass off this agitation at not being able to reach Raito for several days. He owed her a backlog in dates, affection, sex, and plenty of other things that she fully planned on wringing from him now that they were back together again.

The sex had been as good as she'd remembered, the best, even though Raito had seemed a little odd. He'd smoothed her worries away with that sexy smile, assurances, and kisses that were hot enough to melt a girl. It was disappointing that he'd had to drop by his parents' house after. She was hoping that they could spend the night together, catching up on lost time, cuddling, and maybe even spending their passion once again. She was a little resentful that his parents had asked him to come by, but they were nice people so she couldn't hold it too much against them.

With a shock, Misa realized she had lost track of the detective.  
_  
Shit!  
_  
She was in the lobby, it teeming with people, and the oddball was nowhere in sight. Her eyes whipped left, right, searching,_ searching_ for that pale face and that shock of dark, unruly hair. _How could I have lost him?_ She pushed through the press of people and trotted up to the large glass doors, frantically scanning the visitor parking lot for him.

"Misa?" a calm, deep voice broke through her mounting hysteria.

She whipped around and felt relief at seeing the rugged profile before her. "Aibey!" Aiber she liked, just as much as she liked wrapping him around her finger or annoying him and seeing how much he could take and remain so stoic. He was also attractive and not bad at all in bed. "I need your help." She threw a pout onto her face. He seemed less able to deal with her when she acted like this, which is precisely why she did it. He was weak to the cutesy act.

A small muscle in his jaw twitched, but he merely said, "I'm at your service."

Misa felt a teeny bit guilty though, knowing how much of a chokehold her dear father had on this chiseled man. It wasn't like he could refuse her anything, even if he wanted to.

"I need to know where that detective L lives."

His striking, ice-blue eyes looked less than enthusiastic.

"You know where, don't you? Or you can find out for me? It should at least be in his employee file." She sidled up to him, all but batting her eyelashes. "Pleeease, Aibey?"

"What for?" he asked cautiously.

She was taken aback. Was he trying to bypass her authority? Was he actually questioning her?

Her expression hardened. "I need him followed. I believe he is in contact with Raito and might lead me to him, elusive as he is of late."

"So Yagami is trying to slip through your fingers, is he?"

Was that a trace of mockery she detected in his voice? She smiled at him, and it was not a friendly expression. "I hope you wouldn't be purposely trying to offend me, Aibey," the nickname came out harsh and cutting. "It might not sit well with you later on." His deal with her father was to do as he was told, keep her happy, and be a good little lackey.

Something ugly flickered in his eyes, almost too quickly to be detected. Just after, his expression smoothed and whipped into the consummate playboy look that she found so appealing. "Can I help it if I'm jealous?"

That actually startled her. "So you knew-"

He took her small hand and brought it to his lips, eyes not leaving hers, and placed a kiss upon it. "Word travels fast when you are in the business of knowing things. I may look like this, but I am a detective through and through."

She spared him a real smile, flattered that he was this preoccupied with her comings and goings as to have already known about her and Raito, and that he was regarding her with such an intense look and jealousy. It made her feel positively buoyant to have men pining for her. It solidified her high opinion of herself and made her more confident that she was not in danger of losing Raito. It didn't completely erase her unease or distrust, however, so she would still pursue this.

"Do this for me?" she wheedled, pressing close to him. "I'll make it worth your while..."

Hmn. It was possible that Aiber was wondering what would happen to him if Raito fully reclaimed his position at her side. He needn't worry that much. She wouldn't let her father toss him back. He was much more useful here, and besides, it would be such a waste to let this handsome man rot in a cell just for foolishly crossing her Raito.

She stood on her toes and brushed a lingering kiss to his mouth, closing her eyes as she breathed in his deliciously expensive cologne. "It won't compromise your standing, I promise," she murmured. "And I am not so quick as all of that to push you from my bed."

* * *

L had noticed his tail just before reaching the atrium of Raito's office building. There had been precious few in the halls at that moment, and he determined that the soft clicks of someone's shoes were, in fact, keeping pace with him.

He scanned the crowd, finding someone who would look even passably like him, with the same color clothing. His stalker struck him as being distracted, so this should work. He beelined for the dark-haired man he'd picked out, overtaking him just as they were almost in line with the side hallway. L slipped in front of him as the man walked toward the parking lot, then past, shielded by a thick grove of feminine workers who were clogging the flow of foot traffic. He blessed them for their inconsideration.

Safely around the corner now, he pressed up against the wall, took a slow breath, and peeked out carefully to see who his pursuer happened to be. He wasn't sure if he was surprised that it was none other than Misa Amane scanning the crowd helplessly, tossing her head back and forth as she failed to locate him. Frustration etched her features as she pushed past people to get to the door where she expected him to have gone. Her eyes were scanning the parking lot, scouring it relentlessly, long past the time it would have taken him to walk out of view en route to the train station.

It was kind of funny that she assumed he had a car. He didn't even drive.

Before his luck ran out, he'd better make himself scarce. If she happened to glance to her left, he would be in full view. He wondered if this hallway connected to the outside, or if it was a dead end.

Before he could move a muscle, he was startled to see Aiber morph out of the crowd. Misa turned to him in appeal, and that was when L realized he had quite a bit of a problem on his hands. Aiber knew where he lived. If Misa was set on following him, with Aiber's help she could take this much further.

If she tailed him to his house, she could conceivably tail him to the address Raito had given him, which the brunet had taken pains to keep from being connected to himself.

Unless... Well, who was he to say that Misa didn't already know about the address?

He kept his eyes on the blond pair, and inched further down the hall. It was better to err on the side of caution. If Misa knew about the address, it was better to have taken precautions and find that out from Raito himself. If she didn't, and he ended up being followed... that would be unfortunate. He could just see the brunet scoffing at him in annoyance. Then, of course, Misa would be able to spring up at any time. Possibly launching herself into Raito's arms even as he stood there, and L was pretty sure at this point he would be a breath away from ripping her off by her hair.

Shaking his head to clear the thought from it, he carefully leaned forward, just far enough to see if the pair was still occupying his escape route. This hall only had 3 doors, two of them being restrooms, and the other looked like a storage closet. The front doors were the only way out.

Aiber and Misa seemed to have moved on. He crept back up the hall, still cautious, scanning each face and every detail, not wanting to miss them by accident and then step into a mess of his own doing. _Still nothing._ He was at the edge of the hall now, toes nearly an inch into no-man's land as he did his last check. All looked clear.

He composed himself, then slipped out of the hallway as if he hadn't been using it just to hide. His nerves jangled, being in plain view, and he wondered if the place had security cameras and if either Misa or Aiber would think to check them. But that wouldn't help them so much as if they had hidden in turn and were watching him at this very moment.

The heavy glass doors gave way beneath his hand and he wondered if it wouldn't be prudent to go straight to the address Raito had given him. If he returned home first, there was a greater chance of picking up a tail. Unless, of course, he already had one, then he would be leading then straight there.

* * *

Aiber moved out from the shadowed alcove in the atrium, light eyes intense as they tracked the other detective who still haunted his thoughts.

A humorless smile touched his lips as he watched the dark-haired man slip out from his hiding place, as cautious as a small prey animal. Scanning. Scanning. Deeming the coast to be clear. He'd guessed from Misa that L had given her the slip, fully aware that she was trailing after him. Whereas she was convinced she'd merely lost track of him.

_I know you well enough_, he thought at the other.

* * *

TBC

**A/N 2:** Ok, I'll tell you that, YES L AND RAITO WILL COME FACE TO FACE NEXT CHAPTER. I must tell you all now, before one of you murders me.

But hey, I got a lot written ahead, so at least it won't be a long wait. (hides) I'll see if I can get it out this weekend. I just have to go back over the next chapter a bit. I'll do my best to have it out. If not this weekend, then next.

On another note, isn't it nice to see L pursing Raito now? It started with his skulking over to Raito's last chapter and continues here. Poor boy is about out of his head going through all of this. You can imagine him kind of going d'oh! and smacking his forehead as he thinks back on how he was the one to cut their communication, and how wrong all of that went. So he wanted a little space. Weeee-he-hell now, look how hard _that_ has come back to bite him!

Here is the theme song of the chapter:

**"Lost" by Red**

_Can I be dreaming once again?  
I'm reaching helpless I descend  
You lead me deeper through this maze  
I'm not afraid_

_I'm lost in you everywhere I run_  
_Everywhere I turn I'm finding something new_  
_Lost in you, something I can't fight_  
_I cannot escape_  
_I could spend my life lost in you! Lost in you!_

_Your whispers fill these empty halls_  
_I'm searching for you as you call_  
_I'm racing, chasing after you_  
_I need you more_

_I'm lost in you everywhere I run_  
_Everywhere I turn I'm finding something new_  
_Lost in you, something I can't fight_  
_I cannot escape_  
_I could spend my life lost in you!_

_I could never be the same_  
_Something that I never could erase_  
_I could never look away_  
_I lost myself in you!_  
_It's all over now!_

_Lost in you! Everywhere I run_  
_Lost in you! Everywhere I run!_  
_Lost in you!_  
_Lost in you!_


	27. Wako City

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 27

* * *

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

**A/N:** Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 27: (Wako City)

It was not a long journey to Wako. In direct travel time, it was around 40 minutes, though catching a train and also finding the address added much to that.

In fact, he'd been wandering around a residential area for some time now, passing the Wako City Library twice, even though he had a map of the area pulled up on his phone. The reception was not that good in some areas, L noticed, and it would drop his 3G connection, losing him the map.

It was nearly 7 p.m. and getting dark by the time he found it.

'It' was an apartment building, tucked between more traditional 2-floor houses. There was no parking in front, or in the back that he could see. He wondered what one would do if they had driven here.

His heartbeat accelerated as he faced the building. It settled thickly in his throat as he opened the low, wrought iron gate that broke the solemn security of the concrete wall that lined the fronts of these residences.

Not for the first time, he wondered, _Why Wako?_

Not for the first time, he wondered if Raito would even be here. He felt a little foolish, coming all this way without knowing anything at all. But what else could he have done?

He consulted the paper again.

101 B.

It was a nervous habit. He didn't need verification - he'd memorized the address the moment he'd looked upon it in the mirror. Besides, the letters appeared backwards and he wasn't actually reading them anyway. He was merely taking the paper and looking at it, seeing the perfect writing, and putting it away again.

Nervous energy fluttered in his chest ominously, like caged butterflies. He didn't know what to expect. Didn't know what he would even say if he came face to face with the brunet, their last conversation (if you could call it that) hanging over his head. That horrible, abbreviated phone call and all of the mixed feelings it embodied. Memories twisted in the swirl of his thoughts - knives, cold eyes, warm skin. It was all muddied and confusing and desperate.

The most pessimistic part of him thought he might be walking into a trap. Wouldn't it be convenient for Raito if no one knew this address, if his intent was to sate his temper?

L paused. This setup did feel a little like the motel and trepidation trickled in to poison his resolve. He looked up at the second floor, the doors were identical and bland, unremarkable and un-noteworthy. Their only deviation from anonymity was the brass numbers and letter upon each door. 101 A, B, and C appeared to be on the second level while the 100 marked units were on the bottom along with what looked like an office.

But he'd already made up his mind.

He located the rickety looking stairs and started up, keeping a hand on the railing just in case one of the steps gave way.

As he drew closer, his mind kept offering scenarios, possible ways things would go as soon as he and the brunet laid eyes upon each other, and stress was closing off his throat. His stomach was burning emptily, gnawing with anxiousness now as well as hunger. That's what he got for not eating properly, he supposed. It intensified unbearably as he stood before 101 B, and tension flickered down his arms like static. Contemplating reaching out to turn the knob or knock on the door was making his heartbeat speed its staccato to the point where he thought it would burst.  
_  
Or am I to use the key?  
_  
Oh god, he wasn't sure.

Faced with such a conundrum, he decided to knock. He spent the next several moments focusing on not biting his nails off. He'd been through public transit after all, he didn't want to put his hands anywhere near his mouth. He held his breath.

101 B was silent, nearly mocking him with its windowless facade. There was no knocker on the door and no peep-hole through which the occupant might look out.

He bit his lip, considering. If there was no way for whoever was inside to verify who was _outside_...

Might this by why Raito had provided a key in addition to the address? The brunet would know exactly who it was if a key was used. But maybe Raito had given it to him in case he was not there whenever L decided to arrive?  
_  
Either way..._

L dug into his pocket for the key. He didn't like just letting himself in, but there was no choice. He pushed it slowly into the lock, feeling metallic things catching and sliding against it. He turned it and felt the pressure of the lock regretfully giving way.

He retracted the key, heart in his throat as he pocketed it then turned the knob.

He opened the door and it swung outward.

It was dark as pitch inside. Fumbling along the right side of the door, he felt for a light switch. Finding one, he flicked it on and was surprised to see a multitude of boxes. It almost looked as if someone had just moved in. The place felt barren and un-lived in, as if the boxes were straight of the truck and not a single item had been unpacked.

"Hello?" he called hesitantly, stepping inside. Was Raito even home? Or was he in a room further in?

"Hello," a voice answered from behind him. He jumped, startled as badly as if he had been caught stealing, or if Death had popped out from around a corner, skeletal face grinning from within hooded robes. He whipped around.

Raito was leaning against the wall, just inside the doorway, arms crossed over his bare chest and an impassive expression on his face.

L's heart constricted at the sight of him. He was frozen. Absolutely frozen. He didn't know how to react to that look. It gave nothing away.

"You might want to shut the door," the brunet said, nodding at the gaping entryway. "In case you were followed."

_I was careful,_ he wanted to say._ And why do you think I would be followed?_ he wanted to ask. But L couldn't force words to form upon his tongue, so he nodded silently. He closed the door and glanced at Raito again. The watchful brunet gave another brief nod - L's cue that he was to lock the door as well.

L did as he was bidden, wracking his brains for things he might say to the other man in order to break the silence. At the same time, he had the impression that this was Raito's domain, and that it was _his_ prerogative if the silence would end, or when anything else would begin.

There had been so many things he'd wanted to say to Raito, most of them to the effect of _'I miss you.'_ But looking at him now, there were other things pressing to be said, such as: _What are you doing here in Wako? Why doesn't your phone work? _"How could you sleep with Misa?"

L recoiled as the words left his mouth, sharp and accusing.

Raito's mouth quirked up in a humorless smile. "Found out about that, did you?" Those eyes were shadowed, regarding him like pools of darkness. And L still had no explanation for how or why the brunet came to be loitering in the near blackness of this apartment at just the moment he came in. It was strange. He allotted quite a few resources to unraveling that quandary as he tried to distract himself from Raito's response.

"I warned you, didn't I?" Raito continued softly, his words containing razor wire. "I told you what would happen if you kept refusing me. It was your choice." His eyes were intense - traps with which to hold him still.

"It was only a week," L said hoarsely.

"I was forbidden contact by you." His head tilted in a superior fashion, a touch of cruelty in his posture. "By your imperious command. And so I have done as requested."

"That didn't mean you were supposed to sack up with Misa," L said in frustration, not comprehending how Raito could do such a thing and then tell him it was _his_ fault. Hurt was seeping out of him like from a gushing wound. "How many days did it take? Or did you jump in bed with her at the first opportunity?"

Raito peeled himself off the wall, an unreadable look upon his face. "Don't insult me," he said in a dangerous voice. "You left me no choice. I did what I had to do."

"And that involved _doing_ Misa?" His voice bore the strain of his weakening grip on himself. _Anger. HURT._ Oh, that lockbox he'd stuffed everything into had popped open. His hands were shaking, and possibly so was all of him. "I don't understand."

"Of course you don't," the brunet sneered. "You had no idea what was happening in your absence. NO idea what was going on as you _took your time_ trying to gain your precious equilibrium."

Those words hit L like a slap to the face. He was beside himself with indignant fury. "AND WHO DO YOU THINK CAUSED THAT?"

He saw the slight jerk as his words struck the brunet right back, and there was a stillness about him afterwards like a holding of breath. Raito's eyes lost some of that sharpness, though a distinctive scowl had formed upon his face.

The silence dragged on between them, words downed like bleeding corpses.

The set of Raito's jaw told L that he was not going to be the one to break it.

"And here I'd believed your talk of resolving things," L said under his breath, anger and disappointment rattling his voice. "Even after you did that to me... I still sought compromise. I _only_ asked you for what I thought would help me deal with what had happened." He scoffed. "You upheld that request so brilliantly," he laughed a little, "and yet _sullied_ things so remarkably at the same time." Oh Jesus, his eyes were watering. The last thing he needed was to cry when he was so pissed off. _((And hurt))_ part of him piped up unnecessarily.

"I couldn't tell you what was going on," Raito said, almost too quietly to be heard. "You would have thought it was an excuse to not uphold your request."

L couldn't look at him. He couldn't see straight and he needed to leave. He knew Raito could easily fabricate any story that he wanted. He was a consummate actor, after all. Everyone believed anything he said. Any lie sounded sweet on those lips. And L found that he was, pitiably, no different. It _**hurt**_ to find he was no different, and that he had never touched that heart, had never known the alien landscape behind Raito's masks any more than anyone else ever had. He was more a fool than all of them, thinking his intellect and keen observation had brought him in deeper, protected him in such a risky venture and made the brunet see him as an equal.

The sound of a deadbolt being thrown caught L's attention.

Raito had gone over to engage the second lock on the door, and was now sitting himself down on the floor in front of it, resting his arms on his drawn up knees in a way that managed to look both confrontational and dejected at the same time.

L didn't say anything for a long time. He fought with himself until he was sure his words would come out as bland as he wanted. "What are you doing?"

"I can't let you leave."

Of course, Raito seemed to know his mind almost as well as he did. So _why_ then? _**Why**_ could he not see and understand the effects of his actions? Why did he insist that he was blameless and that everyone around him carried the graver sins?

"You'll detain me for what purpose?" Blessedly, his poker face was firmly resting where it should and he was properly cool and detached.

There was a flicker of something raw in Raito's eyes which was swallowed up again almost immediately. He murmured, "It wasn't supposed to go like this."

"Indeed," L said. "If I'd have known, I would have been content to let you fade into obscurity just like you wanted."

Raito's eyes snapped up and his jaw clenched hard. "So you won't do me the honor of hearing me out? You know everything, do you? You have it all figured out?" He was incensed. "Tell me then, _detective_, what might I be doing in the middle of a new city, surrounded by boxes, cut off from everyone _except you_?"

"How should I know?" L snapped back. "Maybe you ran out of people who can't see you for what you are and you thought to start over."

Raito drew himself to his feet, eyes spitting fire. "And just what might that be?" The passingly pleasant tone was curdled and poisonous.

Warning bells were sounding off in L's head. He took a step back as the brunet loomed closer.

"All out of words?" Raito mocked him, violence in his eyes. "Come, Lawliet, tell me what you _really _think of me."

"You're a liar," he tossed out as if it were a heavy stone that could impede the brunet's advance.

"Yes," he affirmed without a single change in his expression.

L glanced quickly behind him - worrying that he'd trip himself upon the boxes behind him as he moved away. "You're a thief."

"Yes," was the stony response.

Raito was still coming, an ugly yet superior look on his face.

"Y-You're a bastard," he said, not really knowing what else to say, and not wanting to escalate the brunet's dark mood. The closer Raito got, the more tongue-tied he was becoming. He didn't want to be part of this argument at close range. Not when he could see the jeweled glimmer of dark amber eyes, the sardonic twist of those full lips, and the air between them was thinning and becoming scarce enough for his head to spin.

"That's all you've got?" Raito laughed sharply, catching him by the front of the shirt. "I know what you really want to say." L shook his head, unable to breathe in the brunet's orbit. He was certain that hand would feel him trembling like a leaf. And it was not from fear. "How about," the brunet said, leaning forward to lay a word upon his lips, "monster?" That sensual mouth tainted his with its soft touch and harsh words, scalding him with its presence. "Or how about _whore_?"

No, those were not any words of his own. Raito was putting someone else's words there and telling him to claim them. He wouldn't.

There was a shift in the air and Raito's mouth was sinking slowly into his, parting his lips and drowning him with heat and fractured belonging. He wasn't sure how or why it was happening, but the kiss tasted of hurt and despair, which was making his chest clench. Where had they gone so wrong? Was there nothing for it?

Tears finally spilled upon his cheeks, denied for too long.

He'd missed Raito so badly, _beyond reason_, he'd missed him. And now, being so close to him... he felt further away from him than ever. Intimacies like this had always been a method of distraction in the brunet's hands. It didn't hold any inherent meaning.

He tried to push the other man away, feeling his composure crumbling. Raito allowed it, but instead of being able to disengage entirely, L found himself enveloped in a tight-armed embrace. He was motionless, his chin resting upon a tawny, bare shoulder.

It seemed a small eternity before the body against his took in breath to speak.

"I'm sorry," Raito said after a long moment, his slightly obstinate voice muffled in L's dark hair. Tension simmered within his lean frame. "...I don't want to fight with you. That's the last thing I want." His voice was tight, as if it was being forced through clenched teeth, but so completely without artifice that it almost did not sound like him at all. It was rough. A little raw. "I missed you, Lawliet," he murmured the admission. "More than I'd imagined was possible."

It sounded so authentic. But was it really? Was it horrible and stupid of him to wish that it was the truth? He was so tired of this second-guessing. He didn't have the energy or the strength for it. L sagged against him, the fight going out of him. _Make me believe you,_ he begged silently, closing his eyes. _Or at least be so convincing that I can't have reasonable doubts. Please._

* * *

Raito held the pale, fragile shell of Lawliet in his arms gently, as if he might break under too much pressure. Did the dark-haired detective realize he'd spoken that aloud? No, he couldn't have.

_'Make me believe you._' His voice was faint and barely intelligible, but it cut through Raito like forge-heated steel. _'Or at least be so convincing that I can't have reasonable doubts. Please._' Those desperate words made him feel so blighted, so useless and foul.

He'd tried the hardest he ever had for anyone, for Lawliet - to be himself, to trust, to be trustworthy. Was this the gap between where he was and where he needed to be? It was a great divide. An infinite chasm with no bottom. He'd even reorganized his life for this person in his arms, but hadn't found the words to tell him. Instead, old patterns had taken over and he'd felt the need to fight; though moments before, his heart had lifted just at the sight of Lawliet stepping inside his doorway.

How did this keep happening? Apparently they'd both been under pressure the time they'd been apart, but a reunion should have been positive and fulfilling, not stymied, dark and shot through with sharp, knife-like words.

The first thing out of Lawliet's mouth though had been _Misa_ - that plague upon them. She was like a force of locusts upon the field of their union, devouring and destroying the fruits of their efforts. The first thing the detective voiced was the transgression he _regretted_ and would take back if he could. He was accused of it, had had it rubbed in his face, and his natural response was the anger and spite, those emotions that had been spiraling out of control when regret had first settled in, almost immediately after the act. He couldn't protect the other man from the backlash that he himself suffered from.

Could he even convey how distasteful that joining had been? How Lawliet's face haunted him every moment of it? How he'd wanted nothing more than for it to be the insomniac's slight body that he lay with, not the delicate body of a viper. Her hands had curled about him possessively, nails digging in to hook his flesh and pull him down into her nest, even as he tried to escape it. So he'd lied about needing to go to his parents' house. _You're right, Lawliet, I'm a liar._ But he couldn't take any more of her. He had to be free of it. _I'm everything you've claimed I am and more._

Irony bit at him as he looked down upon the insomniac who'd fallen unconscious in his arms. _I seem to have that effect on you._

The smudges beneath his eyes seemed darker, however, and the bones in his pale face were sharper than normal.

Raito frowned, gathering the detective in his arms. His spare body did not feel as heavy as it should have been.  
_  
Haven't you been taking care of yourself?_

He brought Lawliet to the room he'd been sleeping in and lay him down upon the bed. He fidgeted before finally sitting beside his charge, antsy because of all the air they needed to clear. But he didn't wish to wake the other for selfish reasons, however much he wanted to. Compulsively, he lay his hand across the dark-haired man's forehead and felt it to be hot as if he were running a slight fever. _I'll get a cold washcloth-_

"What are you doing?" Lawliet said, eyes quite open when Raito pulled his hand back. They looked glazed, and a little hazy.

"You seem to be running a fever."

"Nonsense," Lawliet said, looking away as he sat up. "I just haven't-" he tilted woozily, and Raito's hands shot out to steady him, "-eaten recently."

"So we'll feed you."

"I don't want to impose." Lawliet's tone translated more to: _'I want nothing from you.'_

"You've come all this way. Can't I at least do that for you?"

"No," the recalcitrant man said stubbornly.

"Then you intend to pass out on me again?"

"Hardly. I'm going home."

"You do realize you're likely to pass out on the train on the way back. That is, _if_ you can find your way to the station."

"I'll take my chances."

Raito frowned at him. "Couldn't you just stay here, at least until it's light out?"

"What for?" Lawliet countered. "It seems to me there is little point."

Raito took in a long, slow breath and let it out again, just as slow. Another fight would be pointless. Lawliet was acting like this because his faith had been broken. Not by the means Raito would have thought, but through his association with Misa. He owed the other man some allowances for this. He could hold his tongue against barbed words.

Was it stupid that they had come this far and yet his primary concern was still, as it had ever been, simply to devise a way to keep this wary creature with him?

"Fine then, let's go," Raito said, rising and offering his hand.

* * *

L looked at the perfectly shaped hand in front of him and back to its owner. "What do you mean, 'let's'?"

Raito gave him a baleful look. "If you are insistent about leaving, I'm going to make sure you get home. I'll not leave you to wander the streets and get mugged or something worse."

"But you can't-" L hadn't seen Misa or Aiber, but what if that was merely a stroke of luck? If Raito brought him home, they'd have an easy time of getting to him or following him back here. But why would he still care about that at this point? It was useless. Useless...

Even so, he couldn't bear the thought of Misa getting anywhere near Raito.

Raito was raising a brow at him, not looking amused, but perplexed.

"You came out here because you didn't want anyone to know where you were, right?" L asked. "Well, Misa and now Aiber are looking for you."

"No, Lawliet, I came out here for other reasons."

"Which are?" L cursed himself for his curiosity getting the better of him, and for the words slipping out unbidden.

"Well, the first being that I quit my job. The second being that my new beginning starts here."

"So you _did_ quit?" L tried not to be too disappointed in himself for engaging in the conversation. "Did you actually tell anyone yet?"

"No. I needed everything to be taken care of before taking that step. I've cleared out my residence -most of my things are in storage - and arranged for a buyer. I found this place to stay in for now..." He looked at L with nearly plaintive eyes. "I was hoping that you would approve of me leaving. You were so against my job, and the people that came with it."

He ran a hand through his hair in a nervous, agitated gesture.

Suddenly he began speaking again, as if unable to bear the silence or afraid of hearing L's answer. The appeal in his gaze was gone, swallowed up again as he schooled his expression. A touch of antagonism crept into his voice. "Can I tell you now, Lawliet? The day you made your request, I was given a choice." He paused, making sure he had L's full attention. "Chairman Amane decided that it was me or nothing. He issued me an ultimatum." His russet-colored eyes bored into L's own. He saw blame in their depths. "I could choose to keep my job and my career by resuming the relationship I'd ended with Misa, or I could lose everything and even be barred from the field."

L felt a wave of vertigo. That was certainly something he never could have anticipated. He could only imagine how that news had struck the brunet. Especially when he had just blindly told Raito not to contact him.

"I didn't know what to do. The matter concerned you as well - you were specifically mentioned. But I didn't feel I could risk trying to talk to you."

Raito wasn't looking at him now, but was staring at the sheets. "I kept waiting for you to come back, but it was looking hopeless. And several days later, I was forced to play my hand."

"I'm sorry," L said uselessly. So the accusations in those eyes had been for L not being around when Raito needed him. He'd failed the brunet in this way, unknowingly. And that he'd slept with Misa... _is that also to be my fault?_

The transgression with Misa... he couldn't forgive that so easily. It still stung, still pained him. It couldn't be wiped away by Raito pinning it upon his ill-timed request for some space. He could not, _would_ not accept the blame for that sequence of events. How Raito could even begin to justify such a thing was beyond him. Didn't most people end relationships over such things?

L's face felt oddly stiff and immobile, like a rubber mask had been lain over his skin. He felt distorted.

"You must understand, Lawliet-" The brunet's lips were forming words. It took a moment for the sound to come through. "I wasn't in my right mind." Raito was looking to him in appeal. "I was starting to become convinced that my career might end up being all I had left."

Those words were familiar. Hadn't he thought along those lines himself? But his empathy was disjointed. The fact remained that, through his actions, Raito had given up on him, given up on _them_. All for a career that he had now thrown by the wayside. "Yet you've left it in the end."

"But then I realized," Raito continued doggedly, "I had to make a choice between the career I'd been building all this time or the _chance_ that you still-" he broke off abruptly, breaking eye contact. His jaw suddenly looked set and determined.

"The chance that I what?" L prompted. He was caught suddenly by the difficulty Raito seemed to be having, and that the disrupted flow of words seemed to carry more weight than the ones before. The blame-deflecting had eased and the brunet's demeanor, while growing more agitated, seemed to be showing the vulnerability of naked truth.

It struck L rather strongly, pulling him in to dissect it more closely. He wouldn't say it was hope that he felt, but maybe something akin to it. His gaze rested more heavily upon the other man, trying to pry more from him than he was consciously giving. He sensed a turnabout however - Raito was on the verge of retreating, busily trying to reconstruct a fitting facade that he could disappear behind.

"It doesn't matter," the brunet tossed out. "This move would have needed to happen either way." Raito looked cagey. "They aren't likely to leave me alone once they find out. I'm not sure if they will hassle you as well." His walls were going back up as if his flow of words were bricks. His voice was becoming more practiced, sure, and distant. "You are welcome to stay here - I chose a place that was big enough..." He trailed off suddenly as if realizing he'd just divulged a closely guarded secret. The faint surprise in his face made him look more boyish than usual.  
_  
He chose this place with me in mind? For what? In case I would still uphold my agreement to live with him?__  
_  
"Excuse me, I'll be right back," Raito murmured, looking intent on fleeing the room.

* * *

_Stupid, STUPID! _Raito berated himself. How could he let that slip after trying so hard to cover it up? Lawliet was not of a mind to care that he had been holding out hope for his return. The detective was made of distrust, and everything Raito said was suspect.

He'd only wanted to air out some of the truth, to let his reluctant guest see how everything had come to pass. He'd wanted to see if Lawliet might find it within himself to forgive him. He'd seen proof that the dark-haired man cared. He still did, but he obviously thought such feelings were foolish and a liability. He felt that Raito was taking him for a ride. _But I'm not! The one time I am not, I am being seen as a devil._

He did not want to expose his feelings to Lawliet only to have them be scoffed at and dismissed. He'd been under too much pressure to weather that well, and was not sure what he would do in response. He felt as if, in that scenario, he just might snap.

He made his way into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle from under the sink. It was a bottle of alcohol, though he didn't bother to look at what kind. He grabbed a small glass from the nearly empty cabinet and poured some of the dark liquid into it, downing it in one burning gulp.  
_  
What are my social skills and manipulations worth if they can't help me keep you?  
_  
Unhappiness was spearing his chest. He could just feel the scope of the backslide that was coming if Lawliet walked out on him.  
_  
God damnit. I can't take it.__  
_  
What did all of his hard work matter? He'd come this far, severed all his ties save those with his parents and the one he'd created with Lawliet. He'd passed his second Bar Examination in the 99th percentile, was set on his path doing the required menial labor for the next three months at the Legal Training and Research Institute which was mere minutes away, and within a short time he would be starting out as a Public Prosecutor Assistant Officer.

It wasn't perhaps the entry into law enforcement that his father had envisioned, but going through the Police Academy would mean doing a lot of grunt work as an actual police officer before being considered for taking even the Sergeant examination. It didn't really appeal to him. Aiming to be a prosecutor, however, put him above all of those positions. The police would perform the legwork and would have direct contact with the public, packaging it all up in the end with a pretty little bow and handing it over to people like him. He could work cases and wield the law as it suited him and the decision to indict or not would also be left to his discretion.

There were a lot of specialties he could go into, everything from criminal law to foreign affairs. It was wide open. It would also give him the chance to rise in power, higher than the Chairman, and he would have the authority to conduct his own investigations... he could even go after 'corrupt' officials if misconduct was suspected. It was perfect. And there was no end to the ranks he could climb.

The Local Public Prosecutors Office, The District Public Prosecutors Office, The High Public Prosecutors Office and, finally, the Supreme Prosecutor's Office (that was the equivalent of America's Supreme Court, only in Japan it was an even more integral part of the government).

His score on the Bar ensured that he would not be kept waiting long before being considered for a decent position. Once he'd undergone the requisite 'training', boring though it would be, he was sure to ascend the ranks quickly. He'd already been scouted in this short time. Whether it was simply his brain that caught their attention, or his face that they found remarkable, it didn't matter. He could do well here with his skills, and he'd be without the Amanes hanging over him like an oppressive black cloud, holding him back.

He'd look back on this later and laugh - that he'd ever considered staying beneath their thumb. How could he have been so short-sighted? The world was his oyster. He'd hardly even scratched the surface.

He tossed back another drink. For all his optimism, there was one thing that caused it to blur like a hateful mirage. And that something was sitting upon his bed, wishing to be anywhere else but near him.  
_  
Christ._

His hand closed harder upon the glass, masking the tremor that flickered through it. That hurtling, un-control sort of feeling was pressing in upon him, demanding that he act and take what he wanted by force. Only force would not gain him what he truly wished for. It would drive it further from his reach.

But still...

Lawliet was weak to his advances, and they were currently at a stalemate. Could he push things into a direction he liked by giving in to impulse?

He could still feel the heat of the detective's mouth under his. He'd been so angry, and yet the closer he'd gotten to those dark eyes, the clearer it was to him that Lawliet was not as calm as he looked. He was shaking like a leaf and those eyes had begged him to come no closer - which beckoned him forward unerringly. His own rage and the urge to intimidate subsided as the softness of those lips quavered beneath his. He became fascinated, drawn in, and couldn't help himself.

The tears had startled him, waking him to the wrecked mental state that must be riding his companion. Guilt and grief had speared through him sharply, surprising him beyond measure. He had the sudden fear then that he was capable of breaking the toy he'd come to love. _Toy..._He meant that in only the barest sense of the word. Maybe in the beginning Lawliet had been like a shiny new toy, affording endless entertainment, but it had escalated so far past that now. Lawliet had become integral. A necessity.

One that was perfectly capable of disappearing on him and leaving him in shambles.

He knocked back another glass of the alcohol, not tasting anything but the fire of it in his throat.

He hated this shabby apartment. It held none of the comfort or elegance of his old place. Lawliet was the only thing that could improve the ambiance, and _he_ was determined to vacate the premises.

* * *

L looked up as Raito returned looking quite composed.

"Did you advance your cases as much as you'd hoped in your absence?" the brunet asked conversationally.

L sensed a probing for information hidden in the benign words. "Perhaps."

"I should think that would be a resounding 'yes' with nothing to steal your attention," he remarked blithely, taking up residence upon the bed. He lay back, reclining and propping himself up on his arms. That he was facing the door, instead of L, gave the illusion that he was not in L's personal space merely because he wasn't looking at him.

L ripped his eyes from the smooth, tawny skin that lay invitingly before him. _Why am I focusing on that now of all times?_ There was so much uneven ground between them at this point that they might never again find themselves in the capacity for touch. He wasn't entirely sure they would still even be in a relationship after all of this. "Indeed, the first several days were more productive than I could have imagined." It was useless to take note of the brunet's pleasing form.

Rich, dark amber eyes rolled up to meet his, looking nearly solicitous beneath the feathering of side swept bangs. "And after that?" he inquired, his voice bordering on silky.

L fought the urge to inch away as Raito's voice and presence insidiously started affecting him. He was distracted as he answered. "I had things on my mind..." Why did he have to feel this... _need_ tugging at him yet again? Raito's body language was open, calling to him, promising him sweet, sweet lies. He wrenched his eyes away.

"What sorts of things?" Raito asked innocently, though there was an undercurrent of the suggestive in it. He'd rolled onto his side and was slinking closer.

"Nothing that concerns you," L said.

"Really?" Raito moved forward like a cat - sinuous, graceful, unhurried. His eyes were on L's face as if by drifting closer he might be able to discern some hitherto unnamed secret. "That sounds a little too specific to be the truth, Lawliet."

The brunet was so close now that the only thing between them was L's legs, drawn up to his chest. He renounced the caressing sound of his name. "Stop it," he whispered.

Raito's proximity was making his mind go hazy. He could feel the heat of his body against the braced barrier of his legs, even through the cloth of his pants, and could sense that lean body was poised to topple him. But he couldn't allow anything to happen, or there would be no resolution to any of this, he was sure. He would be pulled into the brunet's pace yet again, with no recourse.

"Stop what?" Raito murmured, pressing forward, past his knees and through his defenses, coming dangerously close to his face.

L tried to scramble back, but Raito did not allow him distance and he soon fell beneath the younger man, heart pounding. The brunet's body bore down upon him, pinning him there, and L's body shuddered wantonly. He turned his head to the side, trying to reject the brunet's closeness.

It was no good. His entire focus was locked on the person that lay against him, and it only got worse as Raito bent to his throat. Gentle breath and the grazing of lips played upon his skin, unhurried, enticing, unraveling him.

"How can I stop, Lawliet?" Raito murmured against his neck, the quality of his voice sending chills down L's spine. His mouth was warm, ruinous against his skin. "I don't know how to quit you."

"You have to-" L broke off, not even sure of what he'd been about to say, as Raito's lips lay solemn kisses upon the tender flesh of his throat.

"I don't know how," Raito repeated plaintively, the despair within his tone tugging at L's chest. "It isn't possible," he added dismissively, petulantly, as if he'd just discovered it to be so.

L tried to look the brunet in the eye, but Raito was tipping his face up to receive a kiss he couldn't quite escape. He expected possessiveness, maybe even roughness. But the lips that brushed his were gentle. "I've never needed anyone before." Raito confessed against them softly, discontent drifting through his words, frustration. "How is this supposed to work? What am I supposed to do?"

L wasn't sure if it was honesty closing in on him or a trap. He felt torn as he heard Raito say these things to him. He was as distrustful as before, yet he was wearing down. He was fighting not only his emotions but his _body_ as well._ It_ craved the touch of the brunet so profoundly; _it_ kept his head still as Raito slid between his lips and it throbbed in reaction. _It_ was treacherous.

A small noise escaped the back of his throat as that kiss swelled to encompass the whole of his awareness. Almost as if in response, a tentative hand brushed up his thigh, engorging the heat within him and dragging out a choked moan.

_No..._

_I swore I wouldn't fall prey to this.  
_  
That hand slid up under his shirt, cool against his unbearably hot skin as it stroked his stomach.

He was losing control of the situation - and of himself. He couldn't fend off the desire that was curling in his belly. His body wanted that hand to slip lower and take his mind permanently out of commission.

"I thought of you often," Raito said to him, distracting him from his distraction. "Did you think of me at all?"

_No,_ L was going to say. _**No**__, not at all._ He wanted to lie and sting the other with it, pricking that ego. But Raito had shifted, giving his hand the access that it hadn't had before and clever fingers descended upon L's clothed desire as he started to speak. "N-yes," he breathed, that stroking hand ruining his reply. His cheeks flushed in mortification at hearing himself sound like that. He tried to rebuke his response, but Raito's mouth moved to cover his own, sweetly debilitating and invasive as that hand palmed him more insistently.

He was trapped.

Raito was going to burn him alive.

He struggled against it in a panic, trying to push Raito back and gain some distance but that just served to get his wrists entrapped in an elegant, powerful hand and pushed into the mattress over his head._ Why must I want you like this?_ Raito's other hand worked on the button of his pants, then dragged the clothing down off of his hips.

_Please_, he thought, his mind derailing as Raito touched his bare, throbbing skin. Sensation dredged through his being and he no longer knew if he'd wanted the brunet to please stop or please continue. It was too late for that now, anyway. At the mercy of Raito's hands, he couldn't fight back for long. His limbs soon melted and became useless. His breath hitched and his body reacted to everything now. He couldn't stop it.

Even as his wrists were released, he knew he could not do anything with them. They were as unresisting as the rest of him. He could not pull away as Raito pushed his own slacks over his hips and out of the way. He could do nothing but suck his breath in sharply as the brunet lay against him once more, all smooth skin and hot, hardened flesh. It felt scandalous and intoxicating, and he was powerless against the _feel _of it as Raito's hips ground against his and his mouth was reclaimed.

It was all he wanted - this contact that was strong enough to break him inside and out.  
_  
God._

He shuddered, pleasure rippling and spiking through him relentlessly. It was almost too much to bear. He couldn't-

He groaned aloud, audible now; the brunet had released his mouth suddenly as orgasm encroached upon him and a fine sheen of sweat misted his skin.

Teeth and lips freely explored the arch of his neck, both threatening and gentle in turn, twisting him up inside. _So close now..._ His body was shaking and tightening like a coiled spring. He tried to hold out, but just as he couldn't silence the noises that fell from his lips. He couldn't stop the chain reaction that occurred when Raito bent to his ear and said, "Come," in that blisteringly sexual tone of his.

L's hands dug into the body above him, clinging to flesh and sinew as the sudden force of release ravaged and tore through him. His mind felt blown open, white, and blank as it happened. All he could do was _feel _and shake and drown it. The heat of their aroused bodies, the strain of taut muscles, it all seemed to contain all he had ever craved in this world and was a thing of such exquisite beauty in that moment that it bore the markings of an epiphany.

Raito soon shuddered against him, erotically breathless syllables falling from his lips as pleasure overtook him. He was perfect. Every nuance of him, every sound, every reaction culminated into making him unavoidably alluring and engaging. And he was the perfect cage, entrapping L in the structure of his embrace, claiming his mouth lustfully even as tension slid from his body.

* * *

It was with mixed feelings that Raito came back to himself, still twined with pale limbs and breathing in the heady scent of shared passion. It was not his way to regret such things as this, but once the fog cleared from Lawliet's head, what would he be able to expect from the other man?

Raito hadn't made any sort of conscious decision to seduce him, it had just happened that way. He didn't want it to be held against him - as if _he_ had all the control in these encounters when they had just as much control over _him_.

He lay still for many long moments, wondering if Lawliet's now steady breathing might be indicative of sleep. He waited before separating from him, not wishing to wake him if that was the case, admitting to himself that he was dreading the judgment he might face in those abyssal eyes when they finally focused on him.  
_  
I've used intimacy as a tool for so long, who would rightly suspect I'd suddenly want the thing itself?_

He wracked his brain for something he could do or say that would bring things around, that would ward against the inevitable fights and would keep the detective with him willingly. Again, he nearly wished that he could admit his feelings to his companion, but he would run the very high risk of having those sentiments summarily dismissed. Just because he often happened to play the role of a liar.

He ground his teeth in frustration. _How inconvenient._

Could he reason with Lawliet?

But how, when any truth he spoke was suspect?

He sat up, rubbing a fist over his eyes to relieve the pressure. He desperately wanted a cigarette right now. Not only that, he wanted to take it while sitting in the cool, pristine calm of his old patio's garden. What did he have here but blank white walls, boxes he didn't feel like unpacking, and a couple of dingy windows on the back wall of the apartment? There was no patio here - just a front door, a walkway, and a dismal view of the street.

He'd chosen a tenant house for anonymity. Misa was going to be out looking for him as soon as she realized he'd slipped from her grasp. The lack of parking, an inconvenience at first glance, actually suited him. There was a detached row of single garages on the owner's other lot a few minutes away. He would not be found by his car in the driveway, that was for sure. He'd also chosen this one for the size... just in case Lawliet wasn't quite done washing his hands of him.

Raito heard his mother's words haunt him again.

So he was lucky if the detective deigned to speak to him again, was he? Well, they'd _certainly_ just done a lot more than _**that**_.  
_  
((Not that it changes anything.))_

He let out his breath slowly, feeling his nerves fraying. Maybe he would risk that cigarette. He needed something to calm this agitation so that he could _think_.

He slipped out of bed carefully, taking a moment to erase evidence of their intimacy before dragging his pants up over his hips. He couldn't be bothered with looking for a shirt to wear. Besides, he wasn't overly concerned if someone got an eyeful.

Silently, he left the room and drifted into the kitchen where he began rummaging for the old pack of cigarettes. _Where did I put those?_ he wondered idly. He'd been too busy the last several days to bother with them. Not to mention, he'd been staying at his parents' and then here, disrupting his normal patterns and the urge itself had been hit or miss anyhow.

He found them tossed in an empty kitchen drawer. He tapped one out and put it to his lips, then continued to search for a means with which to light it. One would_ think_ a lighter might reside in the same drawer, but luck was not with him. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath as he checked multiple other drawers and cabinets. He would settle for a cheap, disposable lighter, or even some matches. His nice lighter, he hadn't seen since he'd moved. It irked him.

Looking back towards the bedroom, he thought again upon the dark-haired detective and wondered what he was supposed to do. Lawliet did not respond well to force, and yet too little of such was just as insufficient to keep him rooted.

Raito picked up the permanent marker he'd spied loitering on the countertop and went back into the bedroom. There, he located his wallet on the side table and put it in his pocket. Lawliet looked as if he might be asleep but Raito really doubted that he was. He sat on the bed next to him, taking a slender arm in his hands and draping it over his knees. He turned it wrist up, then uncapped the marker and began scrawling his new number upon the skin, large enough to be nearly obnoxious.

There was something cathartic about making the deep black lines upon the pale purity of his skin. In almost a trance, he watched the numbers form from straight lines and sweeping curves. The number took up almost the whole of the space between Lawliet's wrist and elbow. The writing was clear and bold and would be able to be seen from a mile away. Not that that was why he'd done it - he just wanted the numbers to be so large that Lawliet couldn't ignore them. He sensed that he was going to have to let the other man go, and all he could do was hope that that displayed trust and the relinquishment of control.

God, it made him uneasy.

He looked down on the face of his lover and worried that he might never see it in such repose ever again. Those features had become so precious to him. Despite himself, he reached out and touched the curve of a cheek. It was over-warm, reminding him of his earlier suspicion that Lawliet was running a fever, and that he apparently hadn't eaten in a long while.

It was late, maybe 10 p.m. or so. But there should be at least a convenience store or something that would still be open at this hour. He grabbed a white shirt off of the floor, pulling its tautness over his head and across his chest and shoulders. It was a tight fit, molding to his body in what he knew to be an appealing fashion. Such was not his interest at the moment but it was also one of the few shirts he had access to, the others being largely boxed up, and it was reasonably clean. He'd only worn it for a short time earlier.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the cigarette still caught in his lips. It was at least a 10 minute walk to the store he was thinking of. He placed it upon the nightstand. No point in taking it with him.

He located his expensive but comfortable leather sandals and slid them on, thinking he probably looked like a bum. A sophisticated bum, with the dark black chinos that rode low on his hips, a white t-shirt that hugged his frame, and expertly cut hair that managed to look good even when it was ruffled, but a bum nonetheless. It felt a bit liberating to not have to conform to any sort of standard dress, merely for going outside. Perhaps this was why Lawliet dressed the way he did at times, in clothes so baggy they seemed just short of falling off of him. It was comfortable, also.

Raito never could have dressed so dismissively before. Everything he did _could_, and _was,_being watched. He had to remain ever immaculate.

Perfection was typically his preference, but he did so hate being forced to things.

Giving the abandoned cigarette a second look, he picked it up again and returned it to its place of honor between his lips. He could always buy a lighter while he was out.

* * *

L listened for the jangle of keys locking the door, then quickly sat up and gathered his clothing.

Once properly attired once more, he made sure he had his phone and the key and carefully slipped out of the apartment himself.

He doubted the brunet actually thought him to be asleep. As such, it was piquing his curiosity as to why Raito took no pains to say where he might be going, or to exchange any sort of words with him at all to try to resolve anything. He could easily disappear while the brunet was gone.

L kept to the doorway and to shadows while Raito took the stairs, his footfalls brief and businesslike upon them. His white shirt made him quite visible in the gloom, and it was with little effort that L was able to follow him.

L's eyes may have been closed earlier, but he had been cataloguing everything the younger man did. He'd followed his movements through the apartment and even heard him curse after opening a multitude of drawers and cabinets as if he was looking for something.

He'd been surprised when the brunet sat beside him, taking possession of his arm and tracing something upon it, tickling the skin. From the smell, it was a permanent marker. He wasn't overjoyed at the prospect, but he was supposed to be asleep, so he did nothing. As Raito worked, slowly, L snuck a glance at him and was caught with the quality of his expression. It was pensive and somber, and almost gave the impression of the other biting his lip, but there was some softness in it as well that was elusive and shifting.

L watched Raito mark his skin and it seemed to bear the gravity of ritual. The whole thing was moving in a way that he couldn't quite describe.

Confusion pooled within him when the brunet's fingertips had tentatively graced his face. It seemed so incongruous with what he knew of the other man, lacking none of the forceful possessiveness that was prone to pervade so many of the things he did. The touch was... nearly melancholy in its lingering.

He tried to look unconscious as he processed his reaction to it, and as Raito dressed.

Raito had been acting abnormally. Even when they'd been fighting earlier, something had been different. He'd been overly aggressive before, but it seemed more a lashing out - a lack of control. And control was something the brunet was typically very good at.

And the intimacy... what were the things Raito was saying to him so candidly when the brunet had him too knotted up to even think? They'd sounded like confessions, though he hadn't been sure at the time that they were heartfelt - they could easily have been just more words with calculated effect. But where was the self-satisfaction Raito usually exhibited after they'd come together like this? This time he seemed antsy, restless, and there was a heavy silence that indicated he was thinking upon something with great focus.

L studied his target, taking in the appearance of him, this slightly mussed version of him which was almost more captivating than the sleek, polished veneer he typically presented.

So much was changing so fast.

This was all so far away from where things had begun. That Raito had cast off his career was a shock. To be honest, the flashiness and the dishonesty seemed to suit the brunet only too well. Which had served to make L uneasy. It had the look of a happy arrangement on the surface, and Raito had appeared to be thriving on such work and the monetary bounty.

_But to have terminated his employment...  
_  
What was it he had said before? That he'd been given an ultimatum: He could keep what he had with the addition of being with Misa again... or he could forfeit all and also be barred from continuing in that line of work...

Raito was moving through the streets with an easy, confident stride. He carried himself differently here - almost lazily compared to the crisp, authoritative movements L had observed of him in the office or in a business setting. The brunet was blending in.  
_  
Did you really quit in order to be away from Misa?_ he asked the back of Raito's head. _But why would you go so far as to sleep with her, only to make that decision later? I don't understand it._

Something Raito had said earlier drifted back into his mind: _'I thought my career was all I would have left...'_

Then... if the brunet was feeling as if he had suffered a loss during the time they were not speaking... L frowned, deep in thought. Had Raito actually feared that things were over between them? That was the only explanation that made sense. And he'd also said that he hadn't been in his right mind, indicating that he might also have been distressed over the prospect.

Could he assume that his absence had really had this profound an effect on the brunet? That was how it was starting to look, and yet didn't that hint that strong feelings were involved? Though Raito had never come out and said anything to him directly about such a thing...

...but there were many instances where he'd made admissions that sounded like he might actually really care. That is, if it wasn't an act. _The sticking point._ How would L know if what he was seeing or hearing was real at any given moment? There was no way, really, not with how skilled an actor Raito was. However, the things that had occurred in his absence, and even in the moments where a performance would have gained the brunet nothing - like when L appeared to be asleep - perhaps if he looked more closely to those things, he could find an answer.

L wobbled, a wave of dizziness swamping him just then, greying out over 65% of his vision, forcing him to stop and brace himself against a light post. He leaned his head against it and closed his eyes, focusing on taking deep, even breaths to try and clear his head. He really should have eaten earlier instead of pushing the food Watari had brought him aside. So it would have been sometime yesterday when he'd eaten last. Dinner, was it? And that had had merely been some miso soup and generally light fare.

He raised the back of his hand to feel his forehead, and it did seem that his temperature might be elevated. Between his lack of sufficient caloric intake and the stress he'd been under, it was no wonder if his immune system was faltering. _Not to mention that long walk in the rain the other night..._ Maybe he really was running a fever.

Raito was just turning a corner out of view when L looked up again. Cursing himself for nearly losing the brunet, L resumed his tail, running as unobtrusively and quietly as he could until he gained the corner. He peeked around it and saw Raito disappear into a convenience store. His stomach gnawed in distress at its long standing empty state, and he wondered if he should try buying something within. He had his wallet on him, after all. But... How would he explain his presence? Or was he planning to not return to the apartment before the brunet? Or at all?

He chewed his lip in distraction. If he did _not_ return, he would be knowingly placing a greater strain on things that were already pressed well past their limit. Counter-productive, to say the least.

* * *

Raito entered the glaring brightness of the small store and paused, searching for a likely place to begin. He lightly bounced the cigarette in his lips distractedly up and down, wondering where the pre-made foods section might be.

He felt kind of cheap about not having anything better to offer his guest, but he hadn't exactly stocked the refrigerator nor had he felt motivated to cook these past days. Well, at least he could get something more substantial for the dark-haired man than chips, pretzels or other kinds of snack food. Providing there was anything left at this time of day.

The selection, when he found it, was less than inspiring. He looked over it in annoyance, thinking that at this rate, he should just take Lawliet out somewhere to eat, but he knew he'd never get the ornery insomniac to agree.

There was a western-style meatball sandwich with red sauce and congealed cheese that was absolutely out of the question. Just as unappealing was a noodle salad with strips of some bland, pale, leafy vegetable and chunks of... he couldn't tell if they were supposed to be baby octopi or squid. That left some vegetable gyoza. The dumplings looked a little worse for wear, but were passable. There were two packages left and he took them both.

On a second, baleful assessment of the small refrigerated case he spied some onigiri and nikuman. He wasn't sold on the quality of the pork buns, but figured it couldn't hurt to give the dark-eyed waif more options. He wouldn't put it past him to be picky. He added both the nikuman and some onigiri to his stash and made his way to the register. If he was honest, he hadn't been eating so well himself lately. Decent food or not, it was better to have something sitting in the cavernous space of the empty fridge in case hunger called.

He paid the clerk and made his way outside, the plastic bag crinkling in the slight breeze. He was so focused on returning 'home' (and he sneered at the thought of calling that place home) that he'd gotten nearly 10 yards before remembering he needed a lighter. "Fuck," he muttered in frustration, lifting his face skyward as if to give himself strength, the well-travelled cigarette still hanging from his lips.

It was a pain to have to go back, but since he was already here...

Doggedly, he retraced his steps, went back into the store, and bought the cheapest thing they had. Out of irritation.

Stepping back outside with the opaque, white plastic lighter with a red tab, he set his bag of food upon the ground to light up. Fire flared pleasingly and he was soon breathing in a lungful of his bad habit. He wondered how long it would take him to find his good lighter. And how many other things of quality would he be setting aside and making do without as his life resettled about him? It was annoying. Aggravating. He took another pull on the cigarette then picked up the bag. He tried not to think about returning to an empty apartment. It was far easier to focus on small inconveniences.

* * *

TBC


	28. Coming Home

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 28

* * *

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

**A/N: **Sorry for the tardy update, had beta scheduling issues. :(

On the up-side, though, I have the next chapter all ready to go. Proof-read and all. And a good bulk of the chapter after that is already written as well.

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 28: (Coming Home)

Raito found himself wanting another cigarette almost as soon as he finished the one he had with him.

He debated going back to the store yet again, before he got too far. He wanted the bracing feel of thick, tingling smoke lacing his lungs. But on the off chance that Lawliet was still where he'd left him, Raito decided that returning without distraction really was for the best. His fingers itched to hold another cigarette. Something to do, and something with which to appease his oral fixation.

It made him feel better when he had such a prop - it gave him something to do with his hands.

He had more at home, he reminded himself as he trudged back. Not that he would necessarily have the opportunity to indulge... If the detective was still there, conscious, he didn't see how wasting time on a common breezeway just to feed his habit was going to be admissible.

* * *

Raito looked up and realized he'd passed the walk faster than he'd thought. He was already at his building and had barely noticed.  
_  
Jesus. How much more distracted could I possibly get?_

He flicked his cigarette butt into a trash bin just inside the gate and headed up the stairs. Something in him was bracing against what he was about to find upon opening his door. The worst would be if Lawliet had left. _Disappeared, maybe for the last time._ It trickled through him like ice and was followed by a swift flush of anger.

It was almost funny how quickly he converted compromising emotions into more palatable ones that offered him control. He scowled, digging into his pocket for the key. It wasn't a conscious effort or anything like that. It just _was_. And he could still feel it underneath the anger: trepidation, anxiety. Foreign emotions. Ones he felt ill at ease enduring. Ones he felt he should never have been made to feel in the first place. It kindled resentment that Lawliet was able to spark such ugly things in him. It was such power for the eccentric man to hold over him.

He unlocked the door and it gave way before him, telling him nothing about what he might find inside. It was a silent sentinel.  
_  
'Lawliet?'_ he almost called out. But no, he wouldn't. Either the other man was not here, and Raito would feel a fool for calling to him, or he _was _here and would know that Raito expected he might have fled his presence. _No, Lawliet should expect me to expect him here._ He shouldn't be allowed to think leaving was acceptable.

Raito put the food in the refrigerator, sliding it onto the top shelf, bag and all. That done, he washed his hands, mind on the bedroom, considering different approaches and scenarios. His hands were slow upon the dish towel, drying the water upon them.

It was not until he saw Lawliet within his bedroom, sitting upon the bed and manipulating his phone with clever, spidery hands that tension he had not noticed before seeped from his shoulders.

He watched the detective for a moment, an idle thought passing through his head - that he wished it was his right to look upon the other man like this at any time of his choosing. That was part of what living together might have gained him. Nothing would be amiss in his staring, analyzing, and committing little details to memory like cherished trivialities. That dark, wayward hair, the darker eyes it scattered across and obscured... the sometimes-expressive face with its austere mask that could be slipped on and off at will, the smooth, pale cheeks that could flush with color in such intriguing ways...

All of these were things he wanted to own, things he wanted to lay claim to. And to think that he_ couldn't_, that such a thing was yet out of his reach, was frustrating and burned in his chest like a hot poker. He wanted Lawliet to look at him with the recognition in his eyes that he was regarding an equal being. He wanted that sharp wit on the tip of his tongue. He wanted that elusive, quick smile that he'd seen on rare occasions.

He spoke before his thoughts dragged him down even further, not a master of his own mind. "I brought dinner." He worked to at least make his voice appear unaffected. "Are you hungry?" His words made the other man look up from his phone. He could lose himself in that quiet gaze.

Lawliet nodded after a moment. His dark eyes were enigmatic and active with thought as they held his.

Raito found it inordinately difficult to break the meshing of their weighty gazes. There was such intimacy in that uncharted territory... such unparalleled _knowing_, as if eyes could peel back layers of the soul. He was pulled in and entrapped by it as much as he was loath to be viewed in such excruciating detail and to possibly be judged. "When you're ready," he offered simply, letting the prompt hang in the air as he left the room.

He wondered how flawless his assertion for control appeared to the other. Did he seem as unflappable, calm and steady as he was engineering himself to be? Did he appear as inoffensive, reasonable, and _normal _as he was trying for? Or could Lawliet detect his desperation? His possessiveness?

The containers of food had metal bottoms, so he had to dump the gyoza upon two plates in order to heat them up. He hoped the detective did not find cause to look into his cabinets, seeing the laughable fact that he'd unpacked things in sets of two. Two forks, two knives, two plates, two bowls, two cups._ It was pitiable, wasn't it? _he thought with a stubborn set to his jaw. As if such preparations would somehow make Lawliet living here a reality. He scoffed at his own foolishness.

The dumplings had just finished in the microwave when Lawliet appeared on the edge of the poor excuse for a kitchen. Raito waved him to a seat at the plain, square wooden table and set their plates upon it.

It was a small table, a bit cramped, and their knees were nearly brushing beneath it.

Ratio took the lead, cutting into one of his dumplings. It was unconventional to actually bisect them, but made it easier to soak them in the thin, salty sauce that accompanied them. He put the piece of gyoza in his mouth and chewed, not disappointed with the flavor but only because he hadn't been expecting much. A moment later and he was able to note with satisfaction that L was doing the same, following his example. "I'm sorry it's not all that good," he apologized.

Lawliet shook his head and murmured a thank you for the meal. "You were right, I may be running a slight fever. I really needed to eat something."

Raito debated saying it, then went ahead anyway. "We could go out somewhere," he offered. These dumplings would surely not be the highlight of anyone's week. "I would have suggested it before-" he continued off-handedly, as if it hadn't been a matter of great debate in his own mind, "-just so the food would be better, but I thought you would not be inclined."

"This is fine."

Indeed, Lawliet seemed quite ok with such meager fare.

Poor a meal as it was, sharing it together like this... it was nearly cathartic. Simple motions went into the use of silverware - the gentle sawing of a knife, the lifting of a fork - and the act of slowly making the gyoza fewer in number. The atmosphere was also much less rigid than before.

Raito rested his chin on his hand, feeling a sort of contentment just in watching him. The edginess that had lain between them was relaxing further, as if they were both successfully letting down their guards. "Well, the point was getting you to eat." And Lawliet was, in fact, eating. Mission accomplished.

L finished a dumpling then casually said, "So, you made a special trip just to buy me food?" His dark eyes flitted upward just in time to see Raito stiffen.

"What makes you say that?" Raito busied himself with cutting another piece off of one of his gyoza and dipping it in the sauce.

"Didn't you?"

Raito didn't like the sudden feeling that he was being pinned down. It made him uneasy. He popped the food in his mouth and chewed, giving himself more time. He gestured airily with the fork. "I needed a lighter," he said dismissively. "The food was an afterthought."

* * *

_And wasn't that a bald faced lie_, L thought, mildly amused. A complete reversal of what he'd seen take place. For Raito had secured the food first, and gone in for the_ lighter _as an afterthought.  
_  
Ah, but he doesn't know that I followed him._

L found it exceedingly interesting to see the difference in what _was_, and what the brunet was choosing to present. He also found it interesting that Raito was avoiding owning up to the act of caring he'd displayed. It seemed he was not comfortable with such things.

In fact, that Raito was not instantly playing suave, or lavishing him with claims of caring was actually doing more to convince L that he was being authentic than anything else might have. It was also strangely pleasing to be able to poke at those unnamed feelings obliquely and watch the brunet enact his version of squirming.

"Is that so?" L replied, shading his voice with the slightest trace of disappointment and dropping his eyes. He poked at a dumpling in a listless manner, furthering the effect, but his attention was utterly fixed on the brunet, waiting for his reaction.

He sensed the immediate tensing from the other side of the table. A surreptitious glance confirmed that Raito seemed uncomfortable, like he was debating owning up to his action.

"And what if I had?" the brunet said reluctantly in a manner that could only be described as petulant.

"Had what?" L queried, letting his voice drag with that touch of a saddened tone. He didn't know that his own acting could ever be as flawless as the brunet's but perhaps it might be passable enough for this. He maintained pushing a dumpling around on his plate for another moment before looking up with discouraged eyes. For added effect, he sealed the look behind blankness and replaced it with a neutral questioning look, as if he were trying to hide a reaction.

Raito's eyes averted the moment he looked up. He was frowning and looked discomfited over something. "What if I did go just for you?" Quick flash of amber eyes. Assessing. Diverted again.

L let confusion touch his expression. "Well, if you had, why would you deny it?"

Oh, this was rich. He could practically _feel _Raito squirm, caught between tossing out an easy lie or admitting the truth, though his facade was nearly seamless enough to mask it.

L was surprised though when Raito suddenly pushed out his chair and stood up from the table. He looked as if he might be about to say something. Instead, he began to pace. His hand came up to rest upon the back of his neck as he strode from the table. A gesture of frustration?

L scraped his own chair back, but before he could stand, Raito's circuit brought him back to the table. The hand upon his neck dropped and the brunet's face adopted a defiant look. "I was worried about you. You seemed too thin, like you weren't eating."

L blinked.

He had to admit, he felt astounded at such an admission. Not entirely regarding the admission itself, but that the brunet was having such trouble admitting something so innocuous. L let that show freely upon his face. "You almost sound as if you're trying to say that you care." He was pretty sure the faint sarcasm would goad a reaction from the brunet.

Raito bristled. "I figured you wouldn't believe me if I said as much."

"Try me," L responded, deadpan, staring back with eyes that were utterly serious and full of challenge.

Instantly, the brunet did a fair impression of a deer caught in headlights.

L was certain that a myriad of responses were being considered in that moment of stillness. However, he was not privy to any of them, as Raito suddenly turned on his heel and quit the room.

"Hey-" he said, scrambling out from around the table. "Raito!"

He'd barely entered the hallway when the bedroom door slammed shut, practically in his face. He paused, utterly flummoxed. _What on earth?_

* * *

Raito was fuming. Lawliet - dear, sweet, _innocent _Lawliet - had been taking him for a ride. He hadn't even seen it until the end when he'd been asked to hand out some kind of confession. The change in those eyes... they were too certain suddenly and contained none of the hurt from before.

Oh, he hated being played a fool!

That the insomniac had done so effortlessly was proof of his own distraction.

He gritted his teeth as he leaned back against the locked door, sucking in a deep breath, nerves still jangling from that one moment of crystallized panic where he thought he would have to bare all. In a way, it would be liberating, and yet... just the contemplation of doing such a thing grated intolerably at his sensibilities.

"Raito?" Lawliet was calling him through the door.

He didn't answer. His fists clenched. What was he to say? And he could not very well stay in here for long, not after wrenching the door closed behind him with audible force. _So juvenile. _Excuses had to be made - fabricated - and control of the situation had to be gained. Then this fluttering, nerve-wracking pressure would lose its hold.

"Is something wrong?" the detective added, raising Raito's indignation.

He considered saying, _'No, nothing.' _Instead, he decided to improvise and responded only with the unlocking of the door. It had been childish to lock it in the first place. He hadn't consciously decided to, it had just been a reflex. A slammed door to vent his anger, and the lock to keep the source of his anger and frustration away from him while he gathered the cinders of his self-possession. But what he needed now was to turn this around. Through control of the situation, he would gain control of himself, and he would leave no room for his companion to look too closely at him and analyze his recent behavior.

Raito swung the door open and the detective seemed surprised to see him standing there, glaring imperiously. It made him want to be cruel. It made him want the upper hand. "You thought you would toy with me, did you? And believed that I would not see through your games?"

Lawliet looked shifty. "Why would I toy with you?"

Raito graced him with a cutting smile as he left the doorway and drifted close. "Did you think you'd upset me?" his tone was mocking and somewhat obscene. He was mollified when Lawliet took a step back, a brief flicker of uncertainty shadowing his eyes. "Are you disappointed?" he queried softly with a menacing gaze. He reached out, cupping his hand against that pale face, leaning in as if to kiss it.

And he was quite taken then with the idea of pushing the dark-haired man into a corner, pressing intimacy on him and watching the control shift back into his own court. His fingers curled under Lawliet's chin and tilted uncertain lips to his. _There_,_** there**_ was that slight, full-body tensing that told him he had the upper hand. He exploited it fully, claiming the other's lips forcefully. He reveled in the hitching of the other's breath.

Raito walked them backwards, pressing his daring little insomniac against the wall and plundering his mouth with little reserve.

His body throbbed in response. Oh, _this_ he had missed.

Being gentle and coaxing as he'd been before lacked this heightened intensity. He could feel the frown upon the face that couldn't part from his and the resistance in Lawliet's too-thin body. Could he help that pushing these boundaries made him feel so alive? It was perfect - that the hands that fisted against his chest lacked the resolve to truly keep him away, and that they would soon betray the detective's attraction with something as precious as a tremor...

He was quite taken with all of it. With all of _him_.

Why must he be asked to voice these things? Voice these feelings. It should be obvious, apparent. _You feel what we have between us, I know you do,_ he thought fiercely. And what good were words? It was_ action_ that held truth and weight. Was he to say something so cliché as 'I love you'? The words themselves meant nothing, and were uttered by millions who didn't understand the emotion they were intended to convey, nor did they necessarily care.

To put such labels to they way he felt... cheapened it.

"Why do you want empty words?" Raito murmured against soft lips. He was losing himself in the smell, taste, and feel of the person before him and it was rolling his mind. _You're perfect. _"It's a waste."

He lightened his demand upon Lawliet's mouth, kissing him slower and sweeter, wishing that there was nothing beyond this moment. If only the bonds they forged here could last past the clearing of their heads. Was there no way to tie them together as one, aside from the joining of flesh?

Lawliet broke from the kiss to speak, lips moving against Raito's as the brunet contemplated letting him voice anything at all. The air was close and charged between them. Humid and delightfully claustrophobic. "If they are so empty, why do you have such trouble with them?"

"Maybe because you put such weight on them," Raito spoke without thinking.

"Or do you fear rejection of the first honest feelings you've had?"

* * *

L felt Raito grow still against him. His words were merely a guess, but it looked as if they'd struck home.

He held on to the brunet, not sure if he was going to flee the area like last time. He knew that Raito had been upset not long ago. His posturing afterwards had taken L off guard for a moment, but then it became obvious that Raito was doing it in order to protect himself. Knowing that the brunet actually felt compromised made his heart clench. A showing of any sort of weakness in the invincible being that Raito seemed to be was noteworthy and affected him strongly. Perhaps there were parts of him that were fragile enough to need such elaborate guarding?

"I didn't expect you to say anything in particular," L said quietly, addressing the brunet's earlier question about confessions: _'Why do you want empty words?'_ And he really hadn't expected anything in particular. Though at the table earlier, he had to admit he had been pushing for... something. He'd been starting to learn the shape of the brunet's feelings, but he wanted some sort of verbal confirmation to give life to his suppositions. Instead, Raito was set on avoiding such, and nearly denying his feelings at every turn, despite evidence of their existence. L had wanted to grab the brunet by the face and _force_ him to look at it, to acknowledge it.

"Good," Raito said, still tense and unyielding. "Because I have nothing to say."

L released him and as he'd thought, the brunet pulled away. "Nothing to say to me?"

"Nothing," the younger man agreed. "I've said everything already."

L's arms hung lifelessly at his sides, and the wall at his back supported him better than his still rubbery legs. Raito's impassioned attentions waged war on his self-possession. He willed his body back under control. Not that it was listening. "You're adamant about that? Cooperation and resolution meant nothing to you?"

Raito scoffed. "Lawliet, I've turned my life upside down for you, I miss you when you are away from me, and I think about you constantly. If you must have a label, can't you create one for yourself? What more can I say except that I don't want to be parted from you?"

L felt his face color. Not only at the sentiments, but for how foolish the brunet had made him sound for requiring some sort of concrete statement of his feelings. As if he were saying,_ 'Look at how obvious it is. How could you not see it?_' It figured that the brunet might give him what he'd asked for but in such a way that he nearly regretted asking for it. Nearly.

Raito's eyes caught onto that and suddenly he did not seem so keen to pull away. He nearly looked intrigued now. "You're embarrassed by what I've said?"

_('I think about you constantly.'_)

L shook his head, but being under such close scrutiny made his face flush harder._ Why must he press me in this way?_ It hardly seemed fair. But how could he help reacting to the brunet's words when he was finally starting to believe them to be the truth? (_'I don't want to be parted from you.'_) From what he'd seen today...

But Raito was not about to leave him to such musings in peace.

"Shy all of a sudden?" Raito leaned in to croon at his ear, gently taunting. The brunet was lapping up his discomfort, feeding on it, his voice carrying one of those curling, lascivious smiles. "And I've yet to hear such words from your lips..."

Ugh. Raito was catching onto things too easily. "Y-you just said that words are empty."

"Oh, but not with _you_, they aren't," Raito said silkily, warming to this new form of torture. "Therefore, you have an obligation to fulfill."

L found that the brunet had gotten a good grip on his chin and was tipping his face up so that their eyes met fully. He squirmed as that pleasantly amused gaze burned into his.

"You missed me, didn't you?" Raito said with assurance, his eyes scouring his face. "You wouldn't have come here otherwise." The brunet cornered him with the words. "You could have let me disappear."

L couldn't hide anything this point blank.

Oh, how that fact galled him. He hated being unable to dispense chosen tidbits of information from behind the shield of put-on expressions.

"Yes, I missed you," he admitted grudgingly, stubbornly only giving what Raito was leading him to say and no more. As he voiced this truth, however, pain sparked through him as he recalled just how very _much _he'd missed him. He felt it touch his face, which in the end would give the brunet exactly what he wanted.

Raito's amber gaze flickered over his face searchingly for a long moment.

"Lawliet, let's dispense with this. Whatever you want to call it - I believe we feel the same." His eyes dimmed as he paused, seemingly searching for the words he wished to say next. "Can we not give this another chance?"

The unspoken sentiment lingered in the air: Can you not give _me _another chance?

L's head was full of things such as the apologies the brunet really owed him, the transgressions with Misa, and so many other things._ And will that all be swept under the carpet if I say yes?_Despite this, he found himself nodding warily.

Raito looked as if a great weight might have been lifted from his shoulders. It was subtle, but his countenance lightened and there was a faint shine across his eyes. He pulled L into a crushing embrace just as a smile threatened to manifest upon his face. "Thank you," he whispered with intensity, burying his head against L's neck.

L brought his arms up around the younger man, holding him close.

His own discontent still scraped within his chest, but it was second to the quickening he felt at bestowing this sort of forgiveness. It was a leap of faith he couldn't entirely be sure was warranted... but he got the feeling that the brunet was repentant for the things he had taken issue with, though it had yet to be voiced. He sensed that things might be different now. Bittersweet was the emotion gripping him. Was it really possible that they could repair the damage that had been done? Was it possible to dispel this awkwardness he now felt in the wake of unsettled elation?

"Do you need help unpacking?" L asked cautiously, trying to create an opening - an opportunity for them to persist in each other's company, though he'd been dead set on leaving previously. It sounded lame even to him. He doggedly continued, "You seem like you have not made much progress if you have been here for several days."

Raito pulled back, and the naked expressions had already been properly shuttered and contained. "You'd stay here?" he asked, searching L's face carefully.

"If you like," he responded, choosing his words purposely to make the brunet admit that he would want something like that, instead of putting the impetus on himself.

Raito recognized that and, for once, did not balk at it. "I would."

He seemed about to add something else, but L's stomach growled loudly, reminding them both of the abandoned gyoza. "Stupid," Raito said under his breath, as if intending the word for himself. "You didn't have a chance to eat much at all, did you?" He assessed L with a critical eye as if he might disappear for having missed a meal. Until this moment, food had been all but forgotten.

L shook his head to the tune of another growling of his stomach. Raito summarily peeled him off of the wall and dragged him back into the kitchen.

The gyoza looked cold and abandoned, as well as a little dried out and unappetizing. They were also barely touched.

He and Raito stared at dumplings in unison, then shared a glance.

"Are you _sure_ you wouldn't rather eat something out?" the brunet asked dubiously. He reached out to poke one with a fork.

L frowned. "They might not survive another reheat," he mused aloud. But he did not feel like going anywhere just now. Besides, he wanted to be in the presence of Raito's real self, not the persona he would be donning in the company of others. He did not want their interaction to be on hold, stalled, for the time it would take to dine out. He didn't want to lose any ground they may have gained by having them pick up their masks again for a public outing. "Did you happen to buy anything but these?"

"Nikuman and onigiri."

"Ah." True convenience store food. "I'll take an onigiri." Anything would be acceptable, really. The need for food was often such an inconvenience. Anything that could quickly quiet his stomach with minimal effort would be fine. Dessert was about the only type of food he felt deserved some amount of preoccupation.

"There isn't much nutrition in that - it's mostly just rice."

"Then why did you buy it?"

Raito looked vaguely annoyed. "In case you wouldn't touch the pork buns."

L felt pleased. "So you gave this a _lot_ of thought, I see," he observed aloud, unobtrusively needling his companion. He wished he could openly tease the brunet, but he didn't think his pride would endure it well. As it was, Raito was looking at him suspiciously. But what a turnabout this was from his earlier insistence that, _'The food was an afterthought.'_

"You're just loving rubbing that in," Raito accused him.

L walked over to the fridge in search of the onigiri, hiding a small smile. "Only a little." He was certainly not rubbing it in as much as he _could_. "Besides, it made me happy that you did," he admitted while pulling the container of onigiri out of the shopping bag. He closed the fridge to find the brunet looking at him speculatively.

"But this food is only just passable."

"It's the thought that counts?" L freed an onigiri. "And I had never expected that you would be worried for me." He took a bite and it wasn't too bad.

Raito slung himself into the chair he'd been occupying earlier. "Well, who wouldn't worry? You're even thinner than before." It seemed that admitting caring was coming a bit easier now, though it was still tenuous. "My mother would throw a fuss, wanting to feed you." Raito seemed compelled to throw in an addendum, however. But it was certainly an improvement.

"So are you," L returned, taking another bite of rice and fixing Raito with an avid stare. The brunet also seemed to look worse for wear, thinner, and the shininess of him was a bit worn around the edges. He looked as if sleep might have been elusive as well.

Raito waved him off. "Stress from work."

"Oh, really?" L said innocently, taking his seat. He decided to poke at Raito again and test boundaries. "And here I thought you might have been pining for me." Another bite of the onigiri and he got to a pleasantly sweet, red bean filling.

Raito's expression was droll. "Who in their right mind would admit something like that? They'd never hear the end of it."

L nodded sagely, hiding his amusement. Raito might as well have admitted it openly just now. He'd said _'pining' _in jest, but the thought of Raito feeling so moved pleased him. Would it have been a stoic sort of thing, undetectable to the human eye? Could he even imagine the brunet looking a mess and out of sorts, lingering in dark rooms, lost in thought - perhaps with depressing music playing in the background? No - that seemed too far-fetched.

His thoughts changed track suddenly, from the improbability of a melancholy Raito and wondering how he might have been acting differently at work, and then to a certain blonde, female coworker. "Raito, what's the deal with Misa?"

A long-suffering expression crossed the brunet's face. "Must we talk about that now?"

"Yes," he insisted. This wasn't just about Raito sleeping with her. "You remember I told you she was looking for you? How persistent a person is she?"

"Oh." The brunet looked a little relieved. "Well, very."

"So is she going to be set on locating you?"

"Perhaps. But she won't succeed."

"Even with Aiber assisting her?" L frowned. It was almost as if the brunet wasn't taking this very seriously. "And while we are on the subject, I would like to know what exactly went on between you and Misa. What kind of false promises did you fill her head with?"

Raito sighed explosively, running a hand through his hair. "I should have known it would come back to this."

"Indeed," L agreed, pinning him with his detective stare.

Raito now wore a slight scowl as he rolled his eyes impatiently. "It wasn't anything out of the usual. She loves flattery, and prizes compliments and adoration. I showered her with those things, like I was supposed to, to keep her happy. That things got physical was unavoidable. She'd been pushing for it on and off since I broke up with her. Only this time, she believed we'd started dating again and expected recompense for her patience. The Chairman was also breathing down my neck."

L rather hated hearing this. He could see it in his head, and he didn't want to. Raito had probably buttered her up and given her the ride of her life before disappearing. "Don't you feel guilty at all about using her for your work?"

"No," the brunet said flatly. "She was out to use me just as thoroughly." He looked a little put out. "Don't you understand? I'm not a real person to her. I am sex, and a voice that speaks what she wants to hear. I am a face that makes her look good, and a tool for her father to make use of."

"So why do you feed into that? Why don't you just say, _no_? Is it really worth such an act just to further your career?"

"Because 'no' never got me anywhere." Raito sounded tired, as if explaining something simple to a child who just wasn't getting it. "And it was easier before." He rubbed a hand over his face, frustrated. "Listen, I don't expect you to understand it. It's just how things are."

"So she is looking for her supposed fiancé? I can imagine her efforts to find you, in that case, will be much more motivated than if you just broke things off directly."

"Oh, come on, Lawliet," Raito said with irritation. "You think I really owe her that?"

"Perhaps you owe it to yourself?"

"And how would you propose I do that? I switched phone numbers so that no one can bother me - most of all, her and her father - so I can't use my cell. And if I were to call from a local phone, they could find my location with a little digging. Or did you want me to meet her in person to crush her plans for the future?"

L frowned at him.

Raito leaned back in his chair, a haughty expression on his face. "Then of course, coming in range at all bears a risk. Chairman Amane has enough dirty little secrets to pin me in place for a lifetime. It's only because I've become a free entity that I have any sort of protection. If he brings anything to the media, I can come back at him with plenty more. But if I am in his arena, he has too much control and my efforts would be stifled."

Raito sighed. "He's an utter bastard," he continued conversationally. "He'd break my legs and strangle me half to death if it would ensure I'd do as he liked."

"Why would you work for someone like that?" L couldn't even imagine. What must the day-to-day have been like?

"He has a lot of influence - something I wanted." Raito toyed with the fork on his plate, turning it in restless hands. "It wasn't always so constricting. In the beginning, and when I first started dating Misa, he seemed alright. He was tolerable and full of grand promises. This lack of compromise amplified when I decided to end things with his daughter. He's been seeking to tie me down ever since, and it has been a chore straddling the line so that he didn't have opportunity to do so."

Amber eyes lifted to his. "I'm relieved, actually, that you will be staying here at least a little while. Since Chairman Amane knew we were involved, and since Aiber knows where you live, it is likely they would try to drag you into it."

L shook his head with a frown. "Aiber doesn't know where I live."

"...Ah."

Was it his imagination, or did the brunet suddenly have the look of someone who, under their calm exterior, was desperately backpedalling?

"Are you certain?" the brunet asked. "You did work together for many years, after all."

"I always kept the location of my residence from him. But it sounds to me that you know something you are not telling me." L gave him a scrutinizing look, sharply dissecting him. "Why are you certain Aiber knows where I live? You wouldn't say such unless you were sure."

He did not like the thought of Raito keeping things from him, nor did he like the idea that Aiber could potentially turn up at his home at any given time. Was it even safe to reside there in that case? Would Aiber go far enough as to enter uninvited and persist in trying to claim something tangible from him?

* * *

Raito heavily debated disclosing anything. _Stupid blunder._ The more honest he tried to be with the detective, the more trouble he was encountering. It was unthinkable that he'd made such a slip. Was he supposed to reveal how Aiber had broken in with ill intent? Should he offer up just how he had rendered the man incapable of acting on those impulses towards the dark-haired detective? Or how he had bound and gagged the blond and dragged him into the closet, then proceeded to teach the man how Lawliet was _his _alone?

Aha, that was the sticking point - that he had gone to such lengths to show his claim on the dark-haired intellectual, indulging in his soft mouth and much, much more as the foreigner watched. Could Lawliet take such a thing in stride? Would he rescind their delicate truce?

"What did you do?" Lawliet asked him suspiciously, onigiri forgotten and abandoned.

Truth? Or lies?

Raito tried to make a snap decision, but it was difficult in this case. Truth seemed to work better with his companion, but lies might be what were needed here to keep things with Lawliet intact. However, to be discovered in a lie would bear the harshest penalty.

"Aiber broke in the night I stayed over."

"What?" the detective was looking at him in disbelief. "And where was I?"

"You were blissfully unaware." _And utterly sated, I might add. _"Something woke me and it turned out to be your little friend."

"And?" Lawliet's eyes were riveted to him as if they could dig the details from him faster with the intensity of their gaze.

"We had a civilized argument - not enough to wake you. He threatened me. I rendered him unconscious."

"With your bare hands?" the dark-haired man's voice was skeptical. "Aiber is huge."

"No, I had a stun gun." He shrugged at the weird look he received then. He affected nonchalance as if such a thing were exceedingly mundane and added, "It seemed a prudent accessory to obtain."

"_That's _what that noise was?" Lawliet said incredulously.

"What do you mean?"

"I thought I'd heard something like a gunshot, and voices, but I passed it off as nothing but a dream. What did you do with Aiber?" Suspicious again. The detective's voice had stiffened, demanding truth, and his large, dark eyes were relentless. It was inconvenient at best.

"Does it matter?" Raito asked plaintively. "He hasn't bothered you, so it is obvious he's learned his lesson." He would avoid telling Lawliet the details if at all possible. The last thing he needed was to describe what had happened, thereby intensifying that twitchy look upon the other man's face. Their bond, their new truce, was too fresh and fragile to weather the full truth. He did not regret his actions, and would probably act in a similar manner if he had it to do over again, but the consensus was that he had gone too far even then. His own mother had been appalled at his behavior. Certainly, what had happened at the motel was a lack of control on his part - _that_ he would take back if only to repair the overwhelming damage it had caused. But showing Aiber his place in the world, letting him seethe in the mire of his own powerlessness, that had accomplished _exactly _what it was supposed to.

Lawliet's gaze was unrelenting. "Only you are afraid he is going to stir up more trouble."

"Well at least it wouldn't be to merely accost you in the night," Raito tossed back with irritation. "More likely he'd just be trying to help ruin me."

"I saw him the other night at a restaurant. He was acting very strangely towards me."

"Did he leave you alone?" Raito prompted testily.

"Well, yes," the detective admitted reluctantly, obviously not wanting to cede the point. "But as I said, it was weird."

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth," Raito said flatly, summarily dismissing the subject.

* * *

L decided to give up on the subject. Raito was being obstinate and he was not likely to gain more information now even if he persisted.

"You could _email_ Misa," he said then, deciding to be difficult himself. He hated losing ground, so he would make such a thing less pleasant for the brunet. Besides, something had to be done about Misa. He was convinced that telling her that Raito was no longer hers would be for the best. At least then she could try to start getting over it, instead of obsessively searching for the brunet.

Raito favored him with a long-suffering look. "Yes, I could do that."

L sensed a 'but' in his tone. He'd bite. "But?"

"_But_ you are assuming that Misa bothers with such things."

L leveled him with a deadpan stare. "Why are you so against this? It would be easy enough to email a text to her phone. Use your work email."

"Why are you so insistent on this? She isn't worth the hassle."

"Because I believe it will improve the situation."

Raito made a scoffing noise. "Aren't you assuming that you know her better than I? Based on what? Your powers of observation?"

L glared at him and Raito waved off the look.

"I'm not undermining your talents. I'm just saying that I've been dealing with her for a long time now."

L crossed his arms over his chest. "What if I said, _'It would make me happy'_?"

"You don't seem the happy sort," Raito said under his breath. He was frowning slightly; however, he looked like he was considering the request.

After a time, Raito's expression smoothed out and he glanced up at L with keen eyes. It put L on edge. "What?"

"I'll email her," the brunet said, tossing it out like a bargaining chip, "if you'll agree to being open with your family about our relationship."

L sensed that this could potentially be quite unpleasant. "Open how, exactly?" The request was not the time-bomb it would have been several days ago, as it seemed Celia had figured things out... but L had been hoping the whole mess would blow over and never be discussed again.

"Dinner, perhaps?" Raito mused. "But this time, no hiding."

L did not relish the thought of facing Watari. He knew Celia felt confident in her ability to garner acceptance from the older man, but... Wherever Raito was concerned, Watari seemed prone to anger and disapproval. And that was without a relationship even being put on the table.

"You'll have to face it eventually," Raito supplied helpfully. His eyes were too sharp and intent.

"You've certainly changed your tune," L said, watching him with veiled suspicion. "Instead of trying to ward me off, you seem quite intent on me taking this proposition. What happened to your reluctance to contact Misa?"

Raito settled back in his chair and affected a smile.

L took that to mean that the brunet had merely found something that suited his purposes more. He frowned a little, wondering what the brunet had in mind. "I'll think about it," he said unconvincingly.

* * *

TBC

**A/N 2: **Ever heard of the band Innerpartysystem? Check out the song "Don't Stop". (High energy, deep, hard lyrics, amazing vocalist.) The whole album is incredible.


	29. The Snake and the Mongoose

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 29

* * *

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

**A/N: **Someone had asked me about translating this fic into another language (that should only take about 2 eons or so)... Well, sure, I don't mind. I think it's great, actually - just do the standard of giving me credit as the author and all that jazz. :)

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 29: (The Snake and the Mongoose)

Watari sipped a cup of coffee and skimmed the local newspaper. L would often radiate a vague amusement at him for it, deeming ink and print to be unquestionably archaic these days, but he would simply shrug it off. He used computers for plenty of tasks, for near the entirety of the day. Was it really so strange that he liked the division between work and leisure? If he was doing a little light reading, he preferred to do it this way. No cables. No humming machine. No impulses to multitask and continue working.

His mustache swished from side to side as he settled more comfortably at the table and took another long sip from his cup. If he was honest with himself, he also liked the crinkly sound of the large pages as he turned one, or as he refolded the newspaper. L could have his computers. He should beware that his eyes didn't just drop out of his head one day, staring at the pixilated screen unrelentingly for so many hours a day. He really should find something, some activity, that he could do to give them a break.

"Watari?" Celia's voice drifted to him from the other room.

"Hm?"

"Dear, your cell phone is flashing. I think someone is trying to reach you."

Celia, bless her, liked to read books as she reclined tucked up in bed. Usually novels, but she also had interest in a fair number of subjects and it was sometimes this sort of reading he found her at in the cozy light of the bedroom.

"Thank you, I'll have a look then."

The newspaper crinkled its protest as he folded it and set it aside.

"Oh, don't you bother getting up," Celia waved him back into his seat with delicate hands as she swept into the room. She had her favorite robe wrapped around her, an off-white material with an English rosebud print, and her light hair was loosely piled atop her head almost like a bun. Little wispy bits had worked their way free and made a pleasant frame for her face. She offered his phone to him and distractedly patted her hair with her other hand as if expecting it to be disheveled.

Watari accepted his phone and flipped it open. He had a missed call from L.

He'd been wondering where the boy had slipped off to. He hadn't seen him since yesterday afternoon. Before that, he'd been working on cases with a frightening intensity, like he used to. But while it was good he was refocusing on his work again, he'd still seemed a bit off. Plus, he never did eat the food he'd brought him. L had likely just agreed to it automatically and then pushed it aside to keep working.

Watari sighed, shaking his head. He was glad he'd never had children of his own. L was enough to keep any caretaker quite busy. Though he was like an adopted son, really. Still, he could not imagine trying to have children of his own to take care of in addition to L. Maybe he wasn't cut out for such things.

He felt small hands start to rub his shoulders, and realized they'd been tensing up.

"You know, you're lucky if you've only had to worry about him for a few weeks," Celia said softly. "Most parents suffer years' worth of rebellious phases."

"I know." He sighed and was quiet a moment. "I guess he just never acted like a normal young person, so I never expected his behavior to change like this. He never showed much interest in people either."

"Did he tell you where he was?" She hadn't seen that there was only the missed call. Usually, L liked to text.

"Maybe in the voicemail." His voice came out a little strained. He might not know where L was, but he was pretty sure who he might be with.

"You have to let it go, dear," Celia responded to the undercurrent in his thoughts. "Even if you are afraid of him getting hurt, you can't tell him not to pursue a relationship he feels he wants. If we all held back like that, life would not be worth living, would it? And we would resent the ones who told us 'no', even if they had our best interests in mind."

"But why did it have to be this Raito fellow?" He turned to face her. "I don't trust that boy as far as I can throw him."

Celia shrugged delicately. "That's for them to know. You just have to try and be supportive."

"So, is that in my job description?" he grumbled, turning back to his coffee.

She swatted him on the back. "It's hardly part of your job that you care about him. Don't be churlish."

"Yes, dear," he mumbled in a faintly sarcastic tone as soon as she was out of striking range. Whenever he thought of Raito, it put him into an unpleasant mood. It was a little hard to digest that L's first relationship was with a boy, let alone _that_ one.

"I_ can_ hear you, Quillish," she said primly. "You keep that up and I shall refuse to make you those pancakes you wanted."

Oh, his given name. What was his dear mother thinking when she decided upon that one? He much preferred 'Watari'. One of these days, he'd meant to change his name legally, but in all of these years he'd never seemed to have been able to get around to it. Though he figured Celia could call him whatever she liked. It sounded different when she said it anyway. Nicer.

"I'd rather have your pancakes," he said apologetically.

"All right then."

Watari turned his attention to his phone and the voicemail that yet awaited him.  
_  
'Watari, it's L. I'm sending you an email. Please read it.'_

Reading mail on his phone was annoying at best. He wondered why L didn't just text him. Maybe the message was too long? His phone was known to receive bits all broken up and out of order...

"I'll be right back," he said to his companion who was busily amassing the ingredients for her special pancakes. "He said he was sending me an email."

"That's all he said?" She hummed. "Perhaps they are planning to elope? Or already have?"

She was obviously joking, obviously trying to wind him up, yet the mention of such a possibility struck fear in his heart. Not only did he keep mentally repeating, _'Why Raito?'_, but L had seemed to be an emotional mess these last few weeks since meeting him. Calm, analytical, deadpan L. It was worrisome indeed.

He made his way over to the computer and woke it up.

There. The notification that he had mail had popped up at the bottom right of the screen. There were multiple emails, but he only cared to read the one L had sent. The others were work-related and could wait.

He started to read.

The contents were significantly different than he had anticipated.

L was planning not to return for several days and, yes, he was in the company of the brunet. But under the circumstances...

Watari rubbed a hand over his face. He could hardly believe that they had suffered a break in at their house. Not only that - that it was Aiber. He never would have anticipated the blond detective doing such a thing. And to know now that he had been pursuing L with the intention of forcing some sort of physical confrontation, pushing unwanted advances upon him...

_L certainly had some luck,_he thought ruefully. First, someone like Raito had taken a shine to him. Now, a long-time acquaintance and working associate had designs on taking things to the next level.

L went on to describe the general shape of things, in his email, briefly also delving into Raito's personal situation and how that tied in to both Aiber and Misa.

It was a mess.

Utterly a mess.

Watari did not fault L's decision to stay away for the time being. This house was hardly safe for him at this time. And, he supposed, he could try and give Raito some credit for being there when Aiber had tried to accost him. L did not give the details on how the brunet had accomplished it or how it had been hidden from all of them; Watari wondered how L knew for certain the thing had actually occurred. 

_But he wouldn't have mentioned it to me if he was not completely sure. He would have verified the possibility first._

If L was sure, than Watari had no reason to think that Raito was fabricating events.

L suggested that he relocate the base of their operation. Watari agreed. He felt unsettled thinking that anyone might pop in anytime they liked. Not only Aiber, but perhaps others who had discovered L and Raito's connection and were also looking for the brunet.

He was surprised beyond belief to hear that Raito had terminated his employment, but he approved. Heartily. Being a prosecutor ought to be more upstanding a profession than the political arena Raito had been involved in.  
_  
'If you agree to relocate,' _L asked him, '_is there a possibility you could stay at Celia's for a short time? I would like to be able to pick up a few things and cannot return to our house, things being what they are...'_

Certainly it was possible. Celia's apartment was on the other side of town. It was small, but would be serviceable for a brief time. He was sure she would agree to the arrangement, but he would consult with her first.

He didn't want L returning there either. The less attention those two attracted, the better. He also did not like the idea that L would be staying with Raito indefinitely, having nowhere else to go. Celia had a guest room that she would probably be happy to let L use until they were able to find a new location to live. Maybe he and L should move to another city altogether. Not that that would put some needed distance between L and Raito... the brunet was already in another city and L was right there with him despite that.

He finished reading the email and shut off his monitor. There was a lot to discuss. How would Celia feel about things if they were to move? Would she perhaps want to move with them? Of course, that might become complicated... He wasn't sure how L might feel if he were to relocate 'headquarters' (as they'd jokingly referred to it on occasion) only to have there be an additional occupant.

He rubbed a hand over his moustache. Despite L's blowup the other day, where he'd accused them of trying to form some sort of family around him without his say so, he believed L would not be opposed to such a thing normally. He seemed predisposed to liking the older woman. But as Celia herself had said, L seemed to be under some sort of stress. He wasn't acting like himself.

It had to be Raito's fault.

Watari had no issue with blaming the smooth-talking brunet. Everything about him practically screamed untrustworthy. Not to mention, anyone who went to such pains to be physically flawless had to be up to no good. Being around him in person exacerbated the effect. He didn't like the way that boy looked at L and it appeared that he had been right about that as well. There was probably little to no chance that Celia was mistaken about them having entered some sort of relationship. He wondered though, was it something the brunet had tricked L into? Was it really mutual?

But first things first. He should make sure that L's suggestion was ok with his sweetheart. As long as she didn't mind the boy using her guest room for a few days, they would have time to determine a course of action on the real move.

"Celia?" he called out.

* * *

"So, did he reply yet?" Raito asked, trailing lips across Lawliet's collarbone.

His detective was flushing adorably. Not only his face, but much of his bare skin as well. It heated to his touch.

"Not... yet..."

It was late afternoon. Neither of them had anywhere to be. There were no pressing matters except the boxes they increasingly felt inclined to ignore in favor of each other, and the immediate future which would be decided by Watari's response.

Raito knew that Lawliet was trying to secure another place to live, that he might not stay with him after these few days, so he wanted to make the best of it. The detective needed his escape routes all lined up in order to feel secure. Raito was learning things like this. He was learning - and learning not to take offense. For Lawliet did not seem inclined to be away from him now. Maybe he was just conforming to habit? _Or perhaps he's trying to encourage me to be on my best behavior?_

The boxes had been significantly reduced in number, but their productivity had started to flag as their eyes had begun snagging upon one another's more often than not. And in Lawliet's dark gaze, there was a quality of quiet acceptance that had not quite been there before. He seemed more accessible now, and more committed in a way. It let a bit of vulnerability slip out past the wall of his defenses, which was hard for Raito to leave alone. It beckoned him closer.

Soon, he was stilling those pale hands from their task of unpacking a box of newspaper wrapped plates, bringing one up to his mouth to kiss the soft skin of a slender wrist. He could feel the pulse jumping beneath his lips. He treasured the slight tremor in the captured arm as he tilted it upwards, and slid his eyes up to Lawliet's face. Those slightly parted lips were made for kissing. Made for sinking into. Those dark eyes were perfect just like this, black as night now, and watching him with all the stillness of a mouse watching a cobra. He flirted with the idea of consuming that mouth while his lips continued to play across his captive's wrist, and he caressed the delicate skin of the detective's inner arm with inquisitive fingertips.

He'd wanted so badly to have Lawliet again. That brief interlude last night hadn't been enough. But he'd been afraid of pushing things too far, and the stress of the situation had been eating at him besides.

But now, with so much talking and working having been done, followed by lapses into silence that were not uncomfortable at all...

Now he was feeling that pull that Lawliet had over him steadily increasing. He wanted to touch. He wanted to taste. He wanted to hear and feel Lawliet in much more intimate ways. Needed to. And that _want _kept his eyes drifting over his companion and kept insidiously redirecting his thoughts.  
_  
It's not only me though, is it, Lawliet? _

And he knew it wasn't. For the detective's dark gaze had been flicking up to his and holding it a little too long to be purely innocent.

So when he abandoned that gorgeous arm for the greater prize of Lawliet's mouth, it was even sweeter than he'd imagined. His hand tangled in dark hair as he met that willing mouth, sinking in so deep he felt he'd be lost.

His eyes closed and he gave himself up to the feel of it. Desire rushed in him with a voracious will. _Who would have thought anyone could make me feel like this?_

Desire was sparking strongly and it seemed perfectly natural to sink down upon the floor, never breaking the circuit of their mouths. What did things like beds matter? He didn't want to part from this for something so trivial. He wanted to consume and be consumed.

His hands relearned the shape and contour of Lawliet's body, smoothing across the flat planes of his chest, the subtle curve of a shoulder, and the soft invitation of his neck. He pulled Lawliet's shirt off over his head, baring a canvas of pale skin.

It was as he stroked the fire that was building in that body that he began asking the detective questions. It was a weird habit he seemed to have developed, but he loved the way Lawliet tried to fight through the haze of passion to answer him. He loved the sound of his stilted voice, and the mild irritation that rode it because he knew _exactly_ what Raito was doing.

Raito would have thought Watari should have answered by now. Especially if Lawliet had conveyed what they had talked about. He'd seemed reluctant about some of it, so he was starting to wonder exactly how that email had gone. "And you did mention dinner to him?" Raito prompted.

The detective's body was hot underneath his. Burning up. He couldn't help rolling his hips against the other's. It elicited such a gratifying sound. He hid his smile against the gentle curve of his companion's pale neck.

"Yes," the dark-haired man said with exasperation. His breath was coming heavily now. "I told you I would."

"And did you tell him about this?" Raito asked in a silky tone, hand drifting down Lawliet's hip, threatening to drag down his pants. His knuckles brushed down the other's abdomen and muscles jumped in response. He nipped at the soft skin of Lawliet's neck, making his breath leave in a harsh rush, then latched his mouth upon it, sucking gently. Lawliet's moan thrummed beneath his lips and tongue. Oh, it was amazing how every reaction just made him want him to do everything all over again and never stop. Amazing how it always left him wanting more. He became obsessed with dragging the other's brilliant mind so deep into desire that he could do nothing to control his voice, his body's reactions, or his mindlessly wanton actions. Raito was certain he could lose himself in that - bury himself in the whirlwind that he himself had created in the dark-haired intellectual.

His stroking fingers found silken flesh and the body under his jerked with a gasp. "Did you tell him how strongly you feel?" Raito breathed against his ear. Lawliet's honest reactions were affecting him intensely and already his voice had roughened. Desire was beginning to rage underneath his skin. It stormed within his belly as Lawliet's flesh became painfully hard in the coaxing embrace of his hand and as noises spilled from his lips. _God, I want you,_ he thought fiercely, recapturing that gasping mouth.

He managed, with assistance, to drag Lawliet's pants off and didn't bother to do much more then unfasten his own. Anything more was a delay he wanted no part of. He prepared by slicking himself with some of his own saliva. It wasn't the preferred option, but it would do in a pinch. He sure as hell was not suffering either of them to search for lubricant in the bedroom. To hell with condoms, too. He had no patience for such things.

Lawliet's body bowed as he slid into him and the dark-haired intellectual groaned against it with clenched teeth, face flushing hard. Raito gasped as he was swallowed by blinding heat. Tight, gripping heat. His arms shook as they held him up, wavering in strength while pleasure overwhelmed him._** God.**_

He claimed Lawliet's mouth as he started to move, melting into it and nearly losing his bearings. He was being swallowed up by sensation. The heat of a flush blazed across his cheeks and lit his body, making the air feel chill upon his skin. Their hips moved without thought, synchronized, debilitating.

He utterly lost track of time, driving forward into that welcoming heat, his hands drifting all over that pale body. He wanted this to last forever. Lawliet's arms held him close, nails sometimes digging in to his skin. They dug deep when Raito took his need in hand again, sliding his thumb up the length of it from base to tip. The kiss was broken then and the detective was struggling for breath as Raito stroked him.

Each shock of pleasure shuddered through his frail body and gripped Raito's flesh in undulating waves.

It was undoing him.

He eased his caresses until they were feather light teases and the detective was writhing beneath him. Then he drew out his thrusts until they were as long and slow as possible. Oh, it was torture. But it was exquisite. He made sure he was at the right angle to brush Lawliet's prostate with every stroke. Raito got a sick sort of pleasure that his partner would moan every time, even against his will. It was just so exhilarating. It made him want to make Lawliet beg. It was so becoming on him. But he should resist such impulses... Really, he should.

"Raito... I can't... take this," Lawliet said then, breaking into his thoughts.

"Begging already?" he taunted, sounding entirely too winded to pretend to be in control. "And I didn't even have to prompt you."

"Ah!" Lawliet cried out as Raito gripped his desperate flesh more securely and began to move his hand upon it in an unyielding rhythm.

"Was it something more like _this _you wanted?" Raito asked innocently, placing a kiss on trembling lips. His restraint was about at its limit. He couldn't hold back anymore. This slow pace was murdering him.

"Bastard," Lawliet gasped in a way that was nothing short of endearing.

"It's a shame how fast the begging is over," Raito taunted lightly.

It took all of his will to get those words out. Lawliet's body was wringing his hardened flesh unbearably. Finally, he could take it no longer and he began driving into that body as he'd been wanting to, Lawliet's harsh cries sounding in his ears like the sweetest music. He knew he couldn't possibly have been silent himself, but he wasn't aware of anything more then the sharp ache in his belly that was intensifying and blinding him to all else.

Lawliet's entire body stiffened and his nails raked Raito's back as orgasm snapped through him. Raito thrust into his shuddering body, his own limbs shaking and tightening, his breath coming as fast as if he were running a race. And then that tension exploded like white light and he was down and drowning in the force of his release.

* * *

A few hours later and they had resumed their battle with the boxes, if only to grant them some space in which to lounge in. Though without the boxes, there would be even less sit upon. Raito didn't seem to have bothered himself with furniture like chairs or a sofa, aside from the tiny kitchen table and chairs. The barren apartment held a true minimum of comfort items. It was even more pronounced than L's own room back at his house. It was very much at odds with Raito's previous style of living.

L was starting to contemplate buying a sheet to just throw over the remaining boxes. There were plenty that were full of books and things and yet there was no bookshelf to place them upon. Had Raito really thought this move through? Granted, the bookshelves at his old place were built in units that he couldn't have brought with him, but... This move seemed to have been haphazard at best.

Maybe they'd have to buy some cheap shelving and assemble it, he thought vaguely, checking his phone again.

This time there was new mail, aside from the usual. He clicked some buttons, accessing the message he'd been waiting for. He'd checked his phone several times for a response from Watari but it was only now towards evening that he was receiving it. "Raito," L called out. His eyes skimmed the response, reading quickly.

The brunet sauntered over wearing only a pair of pants, as seemed to be his standard dress at this new place. He was drinking from a water bottle while wearing an expression that was entirely too self-satisfied. It had been there for hours now. (It was mildly annoying, L thought, being at his expense.)

L lifted the phone at him and said, "Dinner is fine. Tomorrow. They've relocated to Celia's for the time being. I can pick up some things then, or even stay if I want."

"You aren't planning to stay there, are you?" the brunet took a slow sip of water. It was said very casually, but L detected a sudden tenseness in the young man.

"I wasn't really planning anything." And he hadn't planned anything. He had absolutely not thought past locating Raito. Once he'd found him, he'd had his hands so full dealing with each moment-to-moment that he hadn't had many resources left for considering the future. The future hadn't even seemed real to him in the face of present issues.

He looked at the brunet assessingly. "I did say I would stay here for a few days. But what if I did decide to stay with them for a while?"

Historically, this would be Raito's cue to flip out or become unreasonable. L watched him carefully for a reaction, hoping that this time it would be different. Already, since they'd met up yesterday, Raito had begun curtailing his behavior and acting differently than he had before. He had stopped being so commanding and had started giving L a longer leash. He must have started to realize the damage that it was doing; this had given L reason to believe they _could_ work things out.

He hated to test Raito like this so soon, but... he had to know this sort of thing. He had to know that the brunet could control his impulsiveness and his temper. L was actually really considering Raito's earlier proposal about living together. If the brunet allowed the possibility of him leaving and staying somewhere else, then L would deem cohabitation a workable option.

Raito's expression remained largely the same. He'd developed a certain melancholy over the time they'd been apart that touched his face now and then since they'd come into contact. It flickered in his eyes subtly but was fairly well-hidden. "It is entirely up to you."

L hated that he'd become a damper on Raito's good mood, slightly infuriating though it had been. "You're not going to get mad?" he asked bluntly. He quickly stifled the urge to smack his palm over his face. However did that question get past his filters? It not only sounded childish but instigatory as well.

Raito raised an eyebrow. "Did you_ want _me to get angry?"

"Well, no. I just... sort of thought you might have more to say about it."

The brunet's mouth quirked up at the corners and a laugh escaped. "You'd rebel against a display of possessiveness and yet, without it, you seem to be quite adrift." He smiled a little wider when L frowned at him. "Don't take offense, I merely find it interesting. Did you want me to tell you how much I would miss you, or grab at your arm, ranting over it and telling you that I wouldn't allow it?"

L fought the color angrily rising to his cheeks. "Well, it isn't like that would be out of character," he said defensively. "Except for the _'I'll miss you'_ part," he amended churlishly. He actually wouldn't have minded the brunet saying he'd miss him. He also suspected Raito knew that, and that's why he'd said it the way he did. Jerk.

"Yes, well, I'm trying to change that, if you hadn't noticed."

"Of course I noticed."

"It isn't easy," Raito said airily. "I hope you appreciate it."

L made a face at him in jest. "What, do you want me to wave a little flag for you?"

"My my, aren't we getting mouthy," the brunet said. His eyes were getting that shiny glint that usually signaled his urge to be sadistic, though he was clearly still quite amused. He moved forward, stalking L with playful menace.

_Uh oh. _L took a quick survey of the remaining boxes' location, then made a break for it. He jumped over the one large box that he didn't have time to weave around, and Raito was right behind him.

His heart was pounding, but it wasn't out of fear. It was more like the adrenaline rush one might get from provoking someone or something, knowing you shouldn't, and then doing it anyway. Perhaps like poking at a beehive with a long stick just to see if it was occupied, then running like hell. (Probably not the best of ideas, but fun in its own way.)

He tried to make it to the bathroom further down the hall, hoping to gain more of a lead in the extra steps than he would have if he'd gone for the closer door of the bedroom.

A hand caught at his shoulder and the chase ended almost as quickly as it had begun. L found himself pressed face first against the wall, mere feet from his goal, his wrists caught behind him and a strong hand against the nape of his neck.

"Got you," Raito said engagingly right next to his ear. "Now, how should I punish you?"

Normally 'punishment' would be along the lines of humiliating him sexually, but L was getting good at pushing embarrassment over such things out of his head. Especially since he didn't exactly suffer when such encounters occurred, other than the occasional smack to his pride. Raito managed to drag pleasure from him no matter what he did. He couldn't deny that, and he might as well enjoy it. Besides, this last time had been _**so**_... He shook his head to clear it from reliving it in all its erotic glory. But it really had been amazing. The way Raito had kissed him... and then when he'd...

"Your face is so remarkably expressive at times," Raito said pleasantly.

L's eyes flicked to Raito's and he knew by the smug, enigmatic expression the brunet was wearing, that his rampant thoughts had been easily guessed at. _Ugh._ He considered beating his head against the wall as Raito gloated over him.

"But that wasn't what I had in mind," he said silkily. "I think you'd agree that would hardly qualify as a punishment."

"Well, what did you have in mind? Unless it was to keep me here until the boredom steals my sanity?" Actually, stupid though it was, he found that he was getting a bit turned on.

"Oh, but as long as I'm around, 'boredom' would be impossible," he said suggestively, and laughed softly in L's ear. "I was thinking of trying to discover a latent talent for barbering. You'll help me, won't you?"

_Geh!_ L tried again to twist out of the brunet's grip. He thought the prospect of a haircut was well beyond horrifying. It was a good thing Raito wouldn't have anything on him with which to shear his hair. "Raito-" he said in frustration, turning to the brunet after another unsuccessful attempt to free himself and took pause. "Wait - why are you looking at me like you know something really amusing that **I** will _not _find to be so at all?"

The hand on the back of his hand disappeared and soon returned with a pair of orange handled scissors which were brandished directly under L's nose. L recoiled. "That's not fair! Where the hell did those come from?"

"I was opening boxes earlier," came the pleasant reply. "Now, what should we do? A little off the top? A lot off the back?"

L struggled more determinedly to free his hands. Raito might just be mean enough to make his hair look really stupid. And that would probably give the brunet a sure source of amusement for weeks. "Neither! And if you do, then you'd _better _hope I stay with Watari and Celia or **your **hair will not be safe from me."

"Threats, Lawliet?" the brunet was still wildly amused and not put off in the least.

"I'll shave it bald," L growled.

"I'd wake up first," Raito countered infuriatingly.

"Not if I-!"

"Relaaax," Raito interrupted, placing a mocking kiss upon his cheekbone. A drop in the bucket for the tension that he had to be able to feel thrumming through L's body. "I like your hair - I'm not going to cut it off," The brunet soothed. "I'm just going to torment you at my discretion at dinner tomorrow night," he said sweetly.

"Oh, great," L muttered dismally as he was released. He leaned against the wall for support as his fight response suddenly left him hanging and anxiety opportunistically washed in. "So you're going to air our relationship _and _potentially be obnoxious about it."

"Depending on my mood." He smirked at L. "Though you've got plenty of hours between now and then to try and convince me to do otherwise."

* * *

Somehow Raito did not get lost trying to find Celia's place. L was pretty sure he would have, despite the directions they'd been given.

He felt uneasy as he contemplated the evening before them. Raito kept an innocuous smile plastered upon his face which gave absolutely no indication as to how the evening might progress. The brunet might have been thinking to take mercy upon him or, equally likely, could have been concocting a truly horrible scene to enact later for their audience.

But Raito aside, what about Watari?

What would be the tenor of his mood? Would there be more of that curt coldness he'd displayed towards the brunet? Would some of that now be directed at him as well?

"You know," L said to his companion from the passenger seat, "I have to wonder about you - choosing to do this willingly." He still wasn't sure why Raito wanted to formally 'meet' his family. He himself had not enjoyed the same situation with Raito's family. In fact, he would have loved to avoid that whole affair. It had been nerve-wracking.

"Really? Why would you? This will be fun."

"Like pulling teeth?" L mused aloud sullenly. Raito was sounding nearly effervescent. This promised to be painful indeed.

"Lawliet, think of it this way. Instead of putting something off that has the potential to go either poorly **or** acceptably, you are meeting it straight on. Why beat around the bush? This will make all future decisions much easier. Either we will be accepted and you can rest easy, or we won't, and you can move on."

"I suppose it could be that simple if I didn't actually care about the outcome," L said pointedly. "You're not intrinsically involved, so..."

Raito shrugged. "Point taken. However, even if I did have a vested interest, I know when things are out of my hands. Mulling over how things 'might' go will not affect how they **do **go. It's a waste of resources."

"How do _you _know you cannot affect the outcome?" L said with frustration. Raito's hands-off approach was somewhat maddening. "Tonight, for instance, you could potentially win Watari over, or you could be more obnoxious to him than ever before, ensuring the opposite."

"Watari liking me personally or not is a different matter from him accepting your choice of partners."

"Perhaps it is, apart from him accepting my partner happens to be male; but him disliking you would certainly put a damper in his acceptance of my being in a relationship with _you_ specifically."

Raito waved off his logic. "Which brings me back to my original point. You are much too headstrong to base your decisions solely on what Watari thinks. Therefore, Watari's opinion will not control your behavior. He seems reasonably intelligent, so he would know that accepting your choices is his only option on the matter. Unless he plans to have bad blood between you, that is. Very unlikely."

"Your dissection of people both baffles and astounds me."

Raito slanted a glance at him. "I know what you're thinking."

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"You're in awe of how I can make these sorts of conjectures and then operate as if they were 100% hard fact. You're wondering how I manage it without a second thought and without dropping the ball."

"It does seem like you should be falling flat on your face from time to time," he agreed.

"Welcome to the wonderful world of social skills, my friend."

L cocked a glance at him. "I do believe your talents far exceed _that_ label. And where is it that you learned to lay your emotions to the side so that nothing can touch those as you do your maneuvering?"

A strange expression flickered over the brunet's face before he settled on a pleasantly bland smile. "Trade secret."

* * *

The rest of the car ride passed in relative silence.

Raito wasn't prone to being absorbed in thought while in the presence of others - he did not like the idea that he might not have iron-clad control over his expressions while he was distracted - but it did happen on occasion with Lawliet.

The other man had a way of waving aside all his trappings and zinging him with that blunt manner of his. Somehow, for all his lack of social prowess, he could at times see through him so clearly. It was a wonder he'd ever been able to pull anything over on the dark-haired intellectual.

Of course, that was in the beginning. And since then, Lawliet had been steadily learning more about him and assembling the pieces.

The notion made uneasy. He'd never given anyone the keys to knowing him, _really_ knowing him. He'd never allowed anyone _**in **_like this.

He'd made his decision, however, and he trusted Lawliet. He _did_. But still, something like fear crackled along the edges of his consciousness. He'd almost lost this bond before... So it stood to reason he could lose it in the future. And such a thing might actually be out of his immediate control.

It was ironic, actually. So soon after telling the detective he should not worry about things that were out of his control, here he was doing just that.  
_  
Feelings, is it? Emotion? Is that the difference between the way we operate? Is that the reason I worry about this, about you, and not over much else at all? _

He'd been thinking on what Lawliet had said to him.  
_  
'And where is it that you learned to lay your emotions to the side so that nothing can touch those as you do your maneuvering?'_

Was there a time where he'd consciously decided to lay emotion aside? Was there? Or had he always been rather unfeeling and unmoved?

He didn't know for certain, and that unsettled him.

He also did not know whether the detective had intended the note of disapproval he sensed threading those words, or if it was even there at all.

Raito glanced at his companion. The air between them was not clouded by harsh feelings or discord. Mostly, the silence felt normal, if a little pensive. The dark-haired man was slouching in his seat as he looked out the window, a neutral expression upon his face. He'd worked off one of his shoes and had drawn one of his legs up to his chest, looping the closer arm around it. It was an awkward sitting position, but one he looked comfortable with.

Raito looked back at the road, though it was less pleasing to look at than the detective was.

_So it seems that Lawliet, too, has his guard down in some ways. I haven't seen him sit like that since the very first time I saw him. _The ease with which he did it made it seem like something of a habit. One that he'd apparently been trying to iron out since the time Raito had first encountered him in that bar. The deviation from clothing the spiky-haired eccentric seemed to prefer might have been another 'self-improvement'? Perhaps shoes were as well?

Granted, just now, the detective was wearing a dark, striped button down dress shirt and dark slacks, the clothes he'd been wearing when he showed up on Raito's doorstep. He'd donned the attire before making the trip to Raito's office, most likely. Otherwise, Raito was sure, he would be wearing the sloppy, loose clothing he'd been caught in a time or two - the baggy jeans and long-sleeved shirts.

As his own clothing did not do more than simply hang upon the detective's thinner frame, Raito washed the clothes he'd arrived in for him to wear today. Ill-fitting clothes did not matter while they spent time in the apartment or unpacked boxes... (though a fair amount of time was spent removing said clothing from Lawliet's pale, spare frame)

Raito ran a hand through his hair and tried not to be distracted by thoughts of claiming the other's body. It was very difficult. Even now... His eyes roved over his companion. Lawliet's inky black hair was wayward yet intriguing in its mess of spiked locks. His pale complexion was a pleasing contrast to it, and the smooth column of his neck was enticing, half hidden by the collar of his shirt. The delicate sweep of collarbones was also just visible beneath the parted collar of his shirt, as was a passionate marking or two. It called to mind the resistance of warm flesh under his mouth, the quality of Lawliet's quickened breathing, and the taste of desire.

Eyes back on the road, Raito decided he would keep the marks' visibility to himself. If nothing else, he could use such thoughts to pass the time if this dinner proved to be less than stimulating. No need to tell his companion and spoil the view.

* * *

L stretched, feeling utterly cramped in the confines of the car. "It isn't long now, is it?"

A minor accident had stalled traffic unbelievably and had added considerable time to their trip. Why people felt it necessary to gawk at a dimpled fender, L didn't know. It was also beyond him how that could possibly be enough to cause 5 lanes of traffic to slow to a crawl.

"No. I think it will be perhaps another 15 minutes." Raito met his eyes briefly. "You've never been to Celia's apartment, correct?"

L shook his head. "She is something of a new addition. I don't really know her that well either."

"Ah."

L sensed there was more going on in that head aside from 'ah'. "What?"

"Nothing." Raito shrugged. "Though I wonder why you'd be so concerned about what someone you hardly know thinks of you."

"She _is_ dating Watari," L pointed out, "whom I've know for some time now. And it seems like it's pretty serious."

"So you care by association?"

L shifted and resumed a more conventional sitting position. "I suppose. Does it matter?"

Raito shrugged again. "Perhaps not. I was just trying to understand."

_Hmn._ L began lightly chewing on the tip of his thumb. _Understand me?_ He wondered if the brunet had ever tried to understand anyone past his initial blow-by-blow assessments of them. There was a sort of gratification to be felt at the brunet taking effort to understand him, especially on a matter where their points of view were so inherently different. "Primarily I am concerned with Watari, not Celia."

"Well, she does seem the type to be more accepting. She didn't even falter that badly when she found out that I was the 'girl' you liked."

"That and the fact that she knows about us."

"You _told_ her?" Raito was incredulous as he looked over at him. His eyes were quick, scouring L's face for more information. "Aha," he said after a moment with a small laugh. "No, that isn't it. Haha. You didn't tell her at all, did you?" Surprise turned into a smug little smile. Those ruddy amber eyes stayed upon the road. "She figured it out." Amusement rolled off of him in waves. "Which means..."

"Shut up."

"...you must have been giving quite a display for her to pick up on. Pining, Lawliet?" The smug smile blossomed.

"God, you're insufferable," he said, wishing there was something he could throw at him. There was no way he was admitting to 'pining', or as Celia had put it, 'ghosting around like his heart had been ripped out'. "I yelled at her." Again, he felt the brunet's surprise, and a weighty gaze. He elaborated, "At both of them, actually. She just put together that the only thing that had changed recently is that your shining countenance was absent." It was sarcastic. Just a little. But Raito was giving the impression that he was not going to let this go. He was like a damned bloodhound at times. Especially when it came to things that he did not wish to divulge.

"Are you sure you aren't leaving anything out? I hardly think that's enough for her to make the leap from friends to lovers."

L shrugged. "Search me."

"How forthcoming of you," Raito said under his breath.

* * *

_  
And Lawliet accuses me of being secretive! _Raito grumbled to himself.

But it was no wonder the woman had guessed something was going on between them. The detective was thin as a waif, more so than usual. If she'd been staying at the house with them, she'd be bound to notice if his appetite became poor or vanished altogether. Such was not a typical reaction to a rocky _friendship_, he would think. Add to that a change in the detective's mood or general behavior...

Raito felt vaguely irritated. He wanted to know if Lawliet had actually acted sad over him, pined over him - enough so that it had broken through his exceptional poker face and was bared for all to see. It wasn't for his ego or anything like that... he just wanted to know that the dark-haired man had gone through something anywhere near as intense as _he_ had while they were parted. He wanted that solidarity. He hated being left in the dark, especially on important things such as this.

He was startled as a pale hand suddenly crossed his line of sight.

"There!" Lawliet was pointing out the window, waving his hand nearly under his nose. "Raito, that's our turn, you're missing it!"

Raito cursed his own distraction even as he assessed the distance of the cars in the oncoming traffic. He jerked the wheel hard to the left, whipping the vehicle in a U-turn that barely had enough clearance from the shared turn lane to the far curb bordering the slow lane. He gunned it immediately after and deftly avoided even a single honking horn from the cars that were now less than a car length behind them, for daring to slow their pace. Their turn was now imminent, on the right. He swung the steering wheel, hugging the curb, only slowing when they reached the first residential street.

He became aware of a pale hand clenching his shirt in a death grip, the very same one that had been pointing out the missed turn. His companion was wide-eyed and pressed into his seat as if held there by powerful centrifugal force. "You're wrinkling my shirt, Lawliet," he said mildly.

"You keep taking years off of my life," was the faint response.

Raito took Lawliet's hand in his and gently eased the clawed grip open. "Perhaps you should have mentioned the turn sooner?" Not that it was the detective's fault that he'd been focused on other things. He decided to keep the slender hand in his own and laced their fingers together, driving with his other hand. There was no protest.

Lawliet was nodding minutely in response to his question. "Or perhaps I should make learning to drive a priority."

"I don't know, seems like a lot of effort," Raito trailed in an affected voice, discouraging the thought. He was sure that the detective had never bothered with driving previously, as it would expend more effort than it would gain return. With public transit what it was in many places, cars were a luxury, not a necessity. Besides, he didn't want Lawliet to suddenly start driving himself everywhere, or feel that he did not want to be in the same car with him.

"Maybe."

"Sorry. I'll try to tone it down when you're with me."

"Make a right here," Lawliet said, pointing reservedly with his other hand. "You might tone it down in general. I don't want you to be in an accident either."

Raito guided the car into a smooth right turn. "I'll see what I can do." Their destination was a few houses down, a light yellow townhouse on the right. "I thought you said it was an apartment?"

"It... was supposed to be?"

Raito pulled into the driveway and released the detective's hand so he could put the car into park. "Maybe it's a split-tenant arrangement? One renter takes the bottom floor and the other, the top?"

"I'll call to make sure."

Raito waited while the detective confirmed this and that Celia had the 2nd floor rooms. He wasn't sure who provided the original instructions, but it seemed to him that this detail was a little important to have left out.

His passenger snapped his little red phone shut. Raito noticed he didn't feel quite so irked with its presence as he had on other occasions. Maybe he really was getting a handle on his jealousy. He felt pretty calm, and things that might have set him off before seemed less likely to do so now. Or was it merely that he felt more secure in their relationship now than he had before? Either way, it gave him room to breathe, so he wasn't complaining.

"Ready?" Lawliet asked him.

"Sure." The detective may have been wracked with nerves upon the prospect of spending an evening with Raito's family, but Raito did not feel much concerned with spending time with Lawliet's. Social situations did not generally put him off. At least, not in the same way as the dark-haired hermit. His greatest fear was being bored. Though perhaps, just this evening, his other concern might be leaving here without Lawliet in tow. He suspected it might come up. Why else would Watari mention that the detective could stay here if he wanted?  
_  
Listen to yourself. You're obsessed. _Of course there were other reasons the older man might have made such an offer. Perhaps he wanted Lawliet to feel he hadn't just completely lost his home. It didn't have to be because the man didn't want them to remain together.

Raito shrugged off the mental chatter. Watari would either prove himself to be a problem, or he wouldn't_. I should take my own advice and not worry about things until they actually come up.  
_

* * *

L started up the outside steps that led to Celia's front door, Raito trailing behind him. The brunet was probably right, that it was better to just get this out of the way. And hadn't Raito done just that the first time he'd dragged him to his parent's house for dinner? He'd unapologetically announced that they were sleeping together. Which was utterly mortifying, but was not as poorly received as L would have thought. In fact, only Raito's father seemed to take issue with him, and that had only been because of a misconception over his profession. Upon hearing he was just a detective, Soichiro had warmed up to him immediately.

Raito's advice was something that he'd found worked for him through personal experience. It wasn't merely talk. L figured he should give it more credence.

_So I'll just walk in there like everything is as it should be. I'll act like bringing a guy home is a perfectly normal occurrence, and that I don't expect there to be any sort of negative reaction. I'll tell myself that Raito will be on his best behavior, that he won't instigate with Watari or use Celia to that purpose, and that Watari will suddenly not dislike Raito or act as if he were a blighted viper who is poised to poison me and everyone else._

Yes... I have my work cut out for me.

_  
"_You seem tense," Raito observed, having caught up to him. They were standing on the small landing in front of the door. His eyes were dark gold in the dimming light of sunset.

"I was trying to be positive."

Raito cracked a smile. "Don't strain yourself."

"You're no help," L muttered and rang the doorbell.

It was inordinately weird to be standing there, waiting for someone to open the door and look at him for the first time as being part of a couple. He shot a quick glance over at the brunet. He was standing there looking composed and as benign as could be, congeniality lurking just beneath the surface. It was his game face. Raito's eyes were still his own though, holding a bit of amusement towards him over this situation.

The door opened and it was Celia who greeted them. She still gave off that doting air that was typical for her, but she seemed a little flustered.

* * *

Celia rushed to get the door, not wanting the evening to begin with her sweetheart getting things off on the wrong foot. Quillish was a dear, dear man, but he was really struggling over this relationship thing between the boys. It had surprised her, too, but it seemed he was going to need a little more time than her to adjust. It only made sense though, she hadn't known L for very long so it was not as personal to her.

She pulled the door open, but it took her a moment to properly greet her guests.

They made quite a pair. Mismatched and yet complementary. Striking. Raito was all golds -the tone of his skin, the highlights in his hair, his reddish gold eyes - and had a ready smile. Lawliet was subdued, watchful, and had cool coloring like the night. Black hair and eyes, skin pale like the moon. Yes, just like that, and Raito would be the sun.

She shook the fanciful imagery from her head. She'd been reading too much lately. "Welcome to my home," she said warmly. "Come in, come in."

Also distracting was the connection she felt between them. If she hadn't been sure that they had... been together intimately before, she was certain of it now.

And L, what a difference there was in him since the last time she'd set eyes upon him! He'd been coming apart at the seams, full of tense, listless energy and with a sharp tone at the ready. Then, if left largely alone, he seemed to be just drifting through the motions of living. But now, it was as if he'd gotten his feet back under him. He was still a quiet sort - that was part of his personality, she wagered - but he seemed more confident somehow.

She worried that Quillish would not be able to see all of this, that he would see nothing but his personal issues with the young brunet. Oh, she knew this boy was not nearly as wholesome as he tried to make himself out to be, but she liked him all the same. And L liked him especially - that was the important thing.

* * *

Watari sat in a recliner in the small living room area. He felt a little on edge since hearing the doorbell. Celia had been drilling it into him to be accepting and to try to be 'nice'. When was he ever not nice? He was the epitome of courtesy, composure, and refinement. A proper British gentleman.

That _boy_ was the one who seemed to have problems being nice. He had a quick mind and a sharpness to his demeanor that did not go unnoticed. He was full of hidden thoughts and manipulations. That smile that he was so good at was just icing, a distraction.

He sipped his wine heartily, and tried to put himself in an 'accepting' mindset, if only to please Celia.

"Quillish, everyone is here," she called out lightly, before turning back to her guests. "Do you boys fancy anything to drink? Wine?"

Watari stepped out into the dining area with the rest of them. His eyes fell almost instantly on the pair of boys. Their body language completely mirrored one another's and they nearly seemed attached at the hip. In fact, underneath Raito's golden boy smile, there was a self-satisfaction that Watari didn't like. It echoed in his eyes, and turned a touch smug as their gazes met briefly.

The brunet extended his hand. "Good to see you again, Watari." Watari had no choice but to take it. He shook it in a gesture of good will, though he was outraged that Raito had so obviously made L fall into his nefarious clutches.  
_  
I should have warned L about him sooner. Maybe then... _"And you," he said cordially.

"Here you go, dears," Celia said as she brought two glasses filled with red wine over from the counter.

Raito accepted both of them and handed one to L. There was a micro-interaction there, a meeting of eyes, silent communication, a brushing of fingertips. L disengaged first, hastily tipping the glass to his lips while Raito smiled engagingly at him.

_Leech. Snake. _Watari wished he could voice his thoughts to the room, but alas, he had to be NICE. Meanwhile, he had to endure signs that this brunet demon had already sunk his teeth and claws deeply into his protégé, and say nothing. **Do **nothing.

It was maddening. Certainly L could do better than this?

He tipped back his wine glass, practically hearing Celia in his head, saying, 'You have to be accepting, Quillish. Maybe Raito was not who you had in mind when you thought of L one day settling down with someone, but this is his choice and no one else's.'

He actually never had thought of L 'settling down'. L and settling down seemed to be two things that were mutually exclusive. If he had, however, what sort of person might he have imagined? Someone highly intelligent, for certain, but aside from that? Would he have imagined some pretty girl? Would a young man have even entered the realm of his speculation? His brow furrowed. He wasn't sure. He couldn't see L trying to have a family or anything of the sort. All in all he supposed that the pertinent things would be the person's mind and personality and that gender would not be that great of a factor.

He took his seat at the table and watched the brunet make conversation with Celia as L listened in. _Does Raito really meet L's most important criteria in a partner?_ Was it possible?

* * *

TBC

**A/N 2: **I don't have a song especially for this chapter, so instead I'll just plug the band I was listening to. Infected Mushroom. (Ewww. That name is just... lol) Some of my favorite songs are "Killing Time", "Becoming Insane", and "Saeed". This is music that really benefits from a decent set of headphones or speakers.

But here are some lyrics to chew on anyway. :D Love this guy's voice.

_**Killing Time Lyrics**_

_In my dreams  
(I can kill you)  
Close to me  
You open the cage and he sets you free  
Come to me  
(we run away forever from this misery)  
Lost my mind  
Are you calling me_

Killing time that I left behind  
Everything changes to a point that it stops and it turns around  
I'm always falling down  
Killing time that I left behind  
Everything changes to a point that it stops and it turns around  
It's coming for you now

(So how can it be)  
The color of the world had turned dark on me  
(Falling free)  
Losing my reflection and my clarity  
(Talk to me)  
I feel the sickness taking over me  
(Let me be)  
Imagining that you are here with me

Killing time that I left behind  
Everything changes to a point that it stops and it turns around  
I'm always falling down  
Killing time that I left behind  
Everything changes to a point that it stops and it turns around  
It's coming for you now


	30. Home Sweet Home

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 30

* * *

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

**A/N:**For the last chapter title, The Snake and the Mongoose... The 'snake' is Raito, as many of you guessed, and the 'mongoose' would be Watari. Raito has been described as a snake, or as being snakelike many times, especially by Watari. And Watari would be Raito's biggest hurdle with L at the moment. I know some of you guessed it right. Good job! :)

I must apologize for the severe delay in updates. Writer's block hit me something fierce. Then, an odd thing happened. An idea for a fic in another fandom grabbed me like a mugger, and I wrote at the most frantic pace I have ever experienced. It lasted about a month in a half, then dropped me into writer's block again. Ugh. But I'll be posting a AU fic for Supernatural, called Asylum, as soon as the 19 chapters are beta'd. It is not completed yet, but I might as well get it out there in the meantime, right?

It really baffles me how I can be creatively blocked so hard on one story and yet bust out another. Hmn. In any case, in the back of my head I have still been picking at PITCH this entire time. Endings are so cumbersome to write. For me, anyway, because I am so afraid of making one that will not be satisfying. Grah.

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 30: (Home Sweet Home)

L started to relax partway into his second glass of wine. He hadn't really wanted any, but Raito had spoken for him, so he accepted it. The brunet's amber eyes had been heavy upon him as the glass was pressed into his hands and they bade him drink.

He shrugged. What did it matter? He could do as his companion requested in the hopes that he would keep himself in check - and the brunet had been.

L had been surprised when Raito had accepted wine as well, being used to his habit of refusing such at his own family's home. He watched the brunet carry on animated discussion with Celia about something of little consequence. _He really is quite good at such things_, he thought distractedly, feeling a certain lightness of heart as Raito carried the weight of being social enough for everyone, and with ease. The tone of his voice was pleasing to listen to, and L was content to do just that, though he knew he should probably expend some effort to join in the conversation instead of just watching the brunet. His smile looked boyish just now, and dangerously close to being described as 'cute'. There was what looked like a faint dimple just above the corner of his curved lips. What a difference from the deviant smirks that were so often at home there instead.

Watari had been largely silent thus far, though it was hard to tell by looking at him why that might be. He seemed as mild-mannered as ever, and had managed not to glare at Raito even once. L wondered if he could take that as a positive sign.

"L-kun?" Celia called over to him. "Would you be a dear and help Quillish set dinner out?"

"Uh... sure." As long as it didn't involve actually making anything, he would be fine.

The apartment was rather small, and the dining area was just a few feet from the kitchen area, but the island helped to separate the two. The kitchen had a cozy, homey feel, as did much of the place. The counters were a tawny stone-like substance with small white flowers appearing here and there in an inlaid pattern. They were tidy, with a scattering of items upon them - cup with pencils and pens, a wide-mouth container holding some spoons and spatulas and things. There was also pot was bubbling on the stove.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked Watari as the older man pulled a few things out of the refrigerator.

"The salad needs to have some vegetables chopped up-" L started feeling a panic attack coming on, especially since the large bowl of lettuce seemed to be headed right for him. "-which I can finish off." Relief. "But I'll need you to cut the bread."

"You know," L said, edging backwards, "Raito's very good at this sort of thing..."

"Your fear of the kitchen is above and beyond, L. Really it is, and it is about time you started desensitizing yourself."

"He made me stir something the other day," L offered with a jerk of his thumb, still attempting to escape. "It was nerve-racking."

Watari shoved the wrapped loaf of bread into his hands. "So you've already begun your training. Wash your hands and use the cutting board over there."  
_  
Oh, why me?_ He did as he was told and soon he was glumly regarding a loaf of fresh baked bread, wondering how he was supposed to dissect it properly. "You know," he tried, "in some cultures, it is common practice to merely break off pieces of bread from the loaf-"

"Just cut the bread, L."

L picked up the very large knife and regarded it like a sworn enemy. In theory, this should be quite simple. The cutting of bread - people did this all the time. The difference was,** he** didn't. Bread was supposed to come in a plastic sack and be rectangular and pre-sliced with mechanical precision. It was most certainly not supposed to be round, uncut, and wrapped in waxy paper. _Are you even real bread?_ He accused it silently._ I wonder._

He held the knife carefully level to the counter and pressed down, attempting the first mortal blow.

_What the hell? _Instead of shearing through the bread like a guillotine, the large knife was making the bread deflate under the pressure.

To the tune of his frustration, he could have sworn he heard the brunet sniggering from the table. _Bastard,_ he thought at Raito. _Like I'd ask __**you **__for help._

Sounds of steady chopping were coming from Watari's direction. L glanced over and saw that the older man was making short work of some vegetables and, currently, a cucumber. He also noticed that the knife was being held at an angle and was used with almost a sawing motion.  
_  
Ok, here goes._With this fresh, dynamic tactic, he attacked the loaf anew. The bread-shed was not pretty. Crumbs and small chunks of crust were crumbling everywhere. However, he was managing to render the thing into what passed for slices. (Mangled, uneven slices, but slices nonetheless.) He was even starting to get a little better at it by the end.

He put the knife down and noted Watari surveying the damages.

"It could have been worse," the older man said. "Good job."

"Thanks, I think."

Watari began gathering the bread into a waiting, cloth-lined basket. "Go bring the soup bowls to the table. I'll come back for the salad."

"Alright." L felt mildly accomplished at having managed the bread, but was equally cowed that Watari had served out the portions of soup in addition to finishing the salad, while he'd struggled to complete just his one task.

He carried the first two bowls out for the older couple and sat the last two bowls before Raito and himself.

Raito leaned in to speak in a low voice. "You were in a kitchen for over 15 minutes," mocking amusement coated the words. "Have your deepest fears now been realized?" The words had that slightly lascivious taint that so often infected the brunet's voice when spoken so close to his ear.

"No, but I can't say as much for the bread."

Raito moved away again as Watari returned with the large salad bowl. L started slightly as he felt the brunet's hand languidly smooth up his thigh, the sudden touch rolling through his stomach and setting it aflutter. He shot a furtive glare at the side of the brunet's head. Raito acted like he was unaware, but his lips quirked up at the edges. His hand remained where it was.

_Raito-!_The brunet seemed to have made a hobby out of torturing him in specially embarrassing ways. The last thing he needed was for either of his hosts to see Raito doing such a gauche thing. Raito's hand was warm and threatening where it lay resting. L willed it to stray no further.

"L-kun, how is work going, dear?" Celia asked. "Have you taken on any new cases?"

"Uh-" L choked as Raito's insidious hand slid a few inches higher and gave a squeeze. He cleared his throat, and his embarrassment, and tried again. "Nothing noteworthy has come up, though we have taken on a few new clients-" He broke off. _Dammit, Raito._ Now that hand was kneading the flesh of his inner thigh. God was it distracting. He hid behind his wine glass as his expression started to slip. God, it felt good. The sensation coasted all the way down to his toes.

"Did you want some more wine?" Celia asked him, noting his now empty glass. He nodded, not trusting his voice, and held it out to her. Thankfully, Raito granted him a small respite now that his shield was gone. "And you, dear?" she asked Raito.

"Yes, please."

After that, L noted Raito using his glass in much the same way - though in the brunet's case, it seemed a way to let L see him smirking while the others were none the wiser.

"How are you liking the soup?" Watari asked Raito in an almost pointed fashion a little while later. The brunet, up until this point, had been eating bread off and on with his left hand while tormenting L with his right.

L suspected Watari was onto them, and that the comment was intended to make the brunet's absent hand surface. He hoped it did, because he couldn't withstand much more of Raito's teasing. And any attempts he'd made to remove that hand had only made it more bold.

"I have yet to try any, the bread is just so delicious."

"Isn't it though?" Celia nodded happily. "It's one of my favorites, from the little shop where Quillish and I met." She beamed at the older man.

Raito used that distraction to bring his wayward hand to light and try the soup. L breathed a sigh of relief. His stomach was growling, but he'd been reluctant to put down the wine for fear of Raito embarrassing him, and had been hesitant to truly eat in case he ended up choking.

"The soup is delicious as well," Raito said. "Is it homemade?"

She looked pleased. "Why yes, it is! I made it this morning. Except for the pasta noodles, I made and dried them just this last weekend."

They went on to talk about the finer points of cooking and seasoning and such things, which L found he had to tune out or his head might explode. Bread cutting was his limit for the evening.

He turned to his mentor to make conversation. Just small talk regarding their current cases, some trivialities to pass the time. It was comfortable and familiar, but after a while, he started to get the feeling that the older man had other things he would like to discuss as well.

"L, have you given any thought to where you might want to relocate to?"

The question gave him pause, seemingly coming from out of nowhere. He rolled it around in his mind, but found he had no suitable answer to give. If he did not plan to live with Raito, he and Watari would probably need to find a place that was larger than this one, especially if Celia were to move in with them. However, if he and the brunet did live together, perhaps this place would be an acceptable size for the older couple. "Some thought," he ceded. "Nothing concrete at the moment, though." The table's other occupants seemed to have honed in on this conversation and their own had tapered off.

"Well, please consider it at length. There is no rush, but we should come to a decision in the next few weeks."

Raito's eyes bored into him, roasting him. "Of course." Likely the brunet was concerned over whether he would insist on remaining separate, especially if they would be living in different towns. They hadn't quite discussed this one thing yet, as it had been so volatile in the past, so Raito would have no idea how seriously he was considering living with him. "Are you thinking to move from here as well, Celia-san?"

"Well, I-" she looked at Watari, then back again to L. "I'd thought maybe I would. If it is ok with you?"

He tried to give her a smile, overly aware of Raito's heavy, assessing gaze. "I would not mind." And truly, he wouldn't; he was just running through scenarios in his head, using various combinations of the four of them, and wondering how soon he would need to make his own decision.

"It seems as though this is a private matter," Raito said, excusing himself lightly, a trademark 'pleasant' smile on his face. "No one would mind if I stepped outside for a moment?" He pulled his pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his back pocket.

"You go right ahead, dear."

Watari nodded his consent as well.

L felt torn. Raito was not happy. He knew that smile was a lie. Should he follow him out?

"L?" Watari was trying to get his attention. "You're staying over tonight, aren't you?"

L frowned. "Well, I hadn't thought to. I was just going to grab a few things."

Celia caught his eyes with hers. "You know that you are always welcome here, right, dear? I wouldn't want you to feel as if you can't stay here if you would like. I know I did not make the offer to you myself, that it was extended through Quillish..."

L's hands came up defensively in a calming gesture. "It's nothing like that. I would feel right at home here, thank you."

She looked relieved.

"I think you should stay," Watari said.

"But..." L chewed at the inside of his lip. He and Raito hadn't planned that the brunet would be leaving him here. It felt kind of strange.

"Do you really think it's a good idea to spend so much time together at this point?" the older man asked him. "I know it is none of my business, but being inseparable can put a strain on new relationships. You also have your work to consider. And Raito has his own matters to attend to, does he not? For his new career?"

"Well... I suppose." But Raito had made it sound as if the bulk of his preparations were already complete. The last few days had passed quickly, pleasantly. He'd been... happy. Would too much of that really put a strain on things? He didn't think so but, then again, he was no expert.

"So why don't you stay? For at least a day or two. Take some time to consider where you'll be going from here. Where you might want to move. The three of us can choose a place locally, or even move far from here. Celia is even open to the idea of living abroad."

_Abroad?_

"I- I need some time to think."

Live abroad again? He'd love to, but... He saw a flash of Raito's eyes, they way they'd looked when the brunet had been scrawling his number upon his arm - the poignant melancholy of them and the somewhat lost expression on his face. Thoughts were a maelstrom inside his head.

He almost felt as though events were conspiring to separate them again. Not only for the immediate future, which had yet to be planned, but even in the scope of this conversation and this evening. It made him uneasy. Watari seemed set on pressing some sort of immediate compliance from him, dragging his attention repeatedly back to the table and keeping him rooted to the spot, when his own focus had long since followed Raito out the door. It chafed him to be detained.

"I'll be right back," he excused himself, firmly forestalling the conversation, at least for the moment, so he could seek out the brunet. How strong were they at this point? There had been so much turmoil. What would he do if Watari decided to go abroad? That wasn't the sort of thing Raito would be at liberty to do with his new job, he didn't think. But to cut ties with Watari so suddenly... He'd been living with the man and working with him for over 10 years. Was it wise to change that, and so soon by living with Raito instead? What if that _did_ put an unforeseeable strain upon their relationship?

Maybe if he talked to Raito about this, it wouldn't seem so-

"L?" Watari's voice was firm, as was his expression. He wanted some sort of acquiescence.

"Yes, fine," he said distractedly as his chair scraped back. "A day or two." Anything to release himself from the stalemate so he could follow his more pressing thoughts.

He made his way outside where the brunet was lounging against the stair-rail in the cool night air, leisurely smoking. Raito took one look at him and said, "You're staying here tonight, after all." His expression didn't change much from the pleasant mask, but his eyes looked markedly unhappy.

L frowned. "I wasn't _planning_ on it," he trailed, feeling sort of unhappy about how things were turning out as well. "It just seems like maybe that might be best right now."

"Watari's idea?" Raito asked lightly, looking up at the night sky as he took a pull off of his cigarette. There was a kind of cold acceptance lurking there under his civility, as if he had been expecting some sort of sabotage such as this.

"Partly," L said defensively. He didn't like the insinuation that Watari was a wedge between them, though he could sort of see the basis for it. But he really did not want bad blood between them... they were both important people to him. "But-"

Raito cut him off by waving him closer with a lazy hand.

"What?" he said suspiciously, meeting the other's now steady gaze. He couldn't help it. Raito often pulled things over on him unexpectedly, especially when they disagreed on something. Often it was in the realm of kissing him senseless so that he would have no mind with which to argue.

"Just come here," the brunet said, rolling his eyes a little. His attitude said that L was being ridiculous and that beckoning him closer did not mean he was going to jump him.

He looked so fascinating in the half light, silky hair scattered artfully across his eyes, and his body the picture of languid grace. He looked utterly at home there in repose with errant drifts of wind playing at him. By stepping closer, L almost felt as if he would be entering a different world. And Raito calmly waited for him, as if he had the patience to dally there all night. It was a laughable illusion. The brunet had never had much of a taste for patience. But still, it was a compelling image.

L drifted over to him warily.

An arm slid around his waist and Raito pulled him close, their lips near to touching. The brunet's breath was warm upon them and though L kept his distance, the desire to kiss him welled up strongly. Raito made no move for anything further, just held him like that, as if basking in their proximity. It made L's head start to spin, the warm embrace, the feel of being pressed bodily against his companion and the nearness of that beautiful mouth. He was being drawn into it. Falling into it.

"It's the damnedest thing," Raito said eventually, in that rich voice of his, lips brushing softly against his own, "but I do believe I might be too inebriated to drive myself home tonight."

There was a subtle query in his tone, and possessive desire which made L's belly tighten in response. It was a sweet little lie, he thought hazily, a simple but effective excuse that could easily usurp Watari's mandate without an actual confrontation. It would be easy. And then they'd have time to discuss this between themselves more thoroughly. The only thing was...

"You haven't had that much to drink, no one would believe you," he murmured back. Full lips teased his then with soft, fleeting kisses. He was starting to feel dizzy. Lazy desire was beginning to pump through his body and he was overly aware of the passionate body pressed to his.

"Which is why I fully intend to have much, much more," Raito said silkily, leaning in to capture L's lips and indulge in a deep, sensual kiss.

Maybe it was partly the alcohol that was to blame, but L found his mind taking this moment on the veranda much, much further. Desire wove intricate scenarios of heated indulgences and played them out in his head until he was nearly breathless from wanting.

Ratio's skin was hot where L's hands had unconsciously slid under his shirt. The muscles in his abdomen were hard and flat and jumped a little beneath his touch. His fingers slid lower, over the angle of a hipbone and catching on the waistband of Raito's slacks.

The kiss was becoming decidedly less restrained. One of Raito's hands was now twisting in his hair.

It was hard to think of things like neighbors seeing them or of Celia or Watari coming out to check on them. Raito felt so good, and tasted even better.

He let his imagination run away with him. Thoughts of were they might take this if given the opportunity. If he had to be stuck here tonight, he wanted Raito to be with him. No one would know what transpired behind a closed door. It would be fine. They could continue this shortly, no interruptions...  
_  
(That's disrespectful)_some part of him insisted.

And it _was_. He knew it was.

But he couldn't help it. He couldn't resist Raito's charm. It was like an addiction.

Raito broke the kiss first, though he did so with marked reluctance. "We should be getting back," he murmured huskily, "or they are going to suspect I'm quite the chain-smoker."

"Or they'll think you're taking advantage of me," L offered in a slightly winded voice.

"Mmm," Raito agreed, nuzzling him. He seemed precariously close to continuing where they left off.

"Raito-" He pushed back from the brunet, gaining just a little distance. Forcing himself to clear his head a little and be rational. Level-headed. "Maybe it isn't a good idea if you stay here..." He could still feel the thrilling press of Raito's mouth upon his. Could still feel the _want _circling in his veins.

"Why?" Raito said, mock innocence coloring his indulgent tone, "Are you afraid you won't be able to control yourself?" He was smirking slightly, but his eyes were still lingering upon L's lips.

"Maybe," L admitted reluctantly. Raito was like a drug. Once he'd had a taste, it was hard to get him out of his system. He was overridden by this _compulsion_.

Raito laughed softly. "Oh now, we couldn't have _that_." His lascivious eyes gleamed with amusement and he lifted the dying stub of his cigarette to his lips.

"I need a drink," L muttered to himself as he beat down a flush. He took stock of his physical state and decided that his only hope in bringing it under control would be to maintain some distance from his companion and maybe also by applying a more liberal dose of alcohol. Intoxication worked against arousal. Or, at least, it was supposed to interfere with the _functioning_ of certain parts if one were to drink enough. So the fine line might be between drinking too little and exacerbating the problem by merely lowering his inhibitions, or drinking too much and making a fool of himself in front of his hosts. Oh, dilemma.

"Go on," Raito said, lighting up another cigarette. "I'll be right behind you."

L wondered if he did so because the last one had been largely untouched, or because he needed a moment to compose himself.

L blanked his mind as he walked towards the door, pulling his mind forcibly from the delightful sensations that had been coursing sharply through him. He really needed to develop some resistance to this. His mind was like an iron fist of discipline in many ways, but intimacy was giving him such trouble. And it was not only his mind he had to worry about retaining control over now, but his body as well.

Was it partly the novelty of it? Would the brutal and unrelenting strength of desire pale in time? He nearly hoped so - he felt so powerless in its sway.  
_  
I mastered control over my expressions, I should be able to master this as well.  
_  
He made himself perform a quick but annoyingly complex mathematical calculation in his head as he turned the doorknob, just to refocus himself.

It did a passable job of distracting him. For the rest, he blocked out his awareness of the brunet and refused to waver from that resolve until he could trust himself again.

He stepped inside, noting that Watari and Celia were deep in discussion where they sat next to each other at the table. The older man looked up as he approached, Celia looking up a moment later. "Did you come to any satisfactory conclusions?" the British man asked.

"Not as of yet," he replied, disallowing a wince at Watari's wording to manifest on his face. Come... Satisfying conclusions... Really, how hard was it going to be to ignore the fire in his body and stop seeing innuendo everywhere? Hard. Ugh.

With mental fingers, he quickly wiped away the thoughts like accumulated dust on a book. He furthered the exercise by imagining opening that book and seeing what was on the pages. There would be rows of text. Maybe some old illustrations like woodcuts or etchings. One could be of Watari. Yes, and the text cramping the pages could be about their conversation. Living abroad. Life changes. Cohabitation...

"L-kun, would you care for some more wine?" Celia asked.

He nodded absently. "If you don't mind my asking," he said to Watari, "what made you decide you might want to live together?" He flicked his eyes to Celia, indicating that she was included in this question.

Watari shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

There was an unexpectedly lengthy silence.

During this time, Celia went into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of wine. Wiping it down with a dish towel, she glanced at Watari before deciding to answer. "I can only speak for myself, dear, but there wasn't really a decision. It just sort of came to be. The more we spent time together, the more we found it comfortable and liked it better than being apart. I started staying over, and that too felt just fine. Keeping two places of residence started to seem inconvenient, I suppose, if we spent most of our time in the same place."

"What about you?" L asked his mentor. "Was it the same?"

Watari still seemed reluctant to engage in this conversation. After a moment's deliberation, he nodded. "Pretty much the same, yes."

The man probably realized he was asking not only to inquire about them personally but to apply the knowledge to his own relationship; he really was dead set against Raito for some reason...

L looked up at Celia, processing belatedly that the bottle in her hands was unopened. "Nevermind, Celia, thank you. I don't want you to open that just for me. I'm fine."

The front door softly shut.

"Not at all, dear, I don't mind."

"I don't want to be a bother," L protested. He probably shouldn't be drinking anyway. In fact, it was kind of ironic that he'd thought nothing of taking the glass of wine Raito had handed him earlier and drinking it. After the motel, he hadn't been able to stomach even the thought of alcohol, it being so wrapped up in what Raito had done to him. And here he was right back to drinking it again, without a second thought. It was like the shortest case of PTSD ever.

"I would like another glass," Raito said politely to Celia as he gained the table. "It wouldn't go to waste." His eyes drifted back and down to L's as she set about freeing the cork. They were hard to read, but seemed to contain a ghost of regret, as if Raito had been able to read the tone of his thoughts. That solemnity usually accompanied his ruminations on his past transgressions.

Raito's gaze flickered, with the beginnings of the silent communication they often shared, reacting to his reaction, before diverting abruptly. He covered it by taking his seat beside L, but it seemed like for a moment the brunet felt exposed and had refused to allow that connection of mindspeak to engage fully.

Maybe part of the issue was time and place, aside from the fact that they had not yet spoken of the motel. L could feel that hyper focus from Raito as their gazes had meshed, as thoughts were anticipated between them and emotions were communicated subtly. There was a festering of wounds there, ignored but not forgotten. The breaching of trust, the hurt, disappointment and fear, and the events that took place afterwards as a result... it was still just beneath the surface. For both of them.

Was it escapism that neither of them seemed keen on diving into it? That they were content for the moment to pretend? Pretend that none of that existed, if only to save their relationship from what might become dissolution?

L felt a seasoned pain spark in his chest.

He didn't want to think about this right now. He didn't want to think that this was something unresolvable either. Surely they could come back to it and sort things out. But maybe that would take some time. They were only just now learning how to properly deal with each other. The last few days... they weren't falling prey to the same patterns that had been disrupting things so much before. There was much more work to be done, more habits to break, perhaps, but he was certain that now, they were truly moving forward. Their relationship seemed to be stabilizing.

And shouldn't they focus on stabilization first, instead of stubbornly hashing out the very things that had separated them? Maybe with a stronger bond, fights wouldn't be so perilous.

"Are you sure you don't want a glass?" Raito prompted him, making L realize he was repeating the question.

"I'm sorry," he said to Celia who was waiting expectantly, "I would like one, thank you." Ah, hell. He'd quit tomorrow. For now, he needed to not be so inwardly focused. It was making him feel sad and frustrated. Reliving everything... and thinking about the future... Maybe he should have this drink and then go lie down.

He didn't want to look at the brunet to his left, feeling emotion spike sharply and uncomfortably in him as different thoughts came to mind, such as whether they might always be together or if this state was merely temporary. Or how about the way Raito was so charismatic and was easily able to captivate people?

Against his will, his gaze fell upon his companion who was once again carrying on amiably with Celia. Raito's demeanor seemed open and friendly, but L knew him well enough to see that he was actually emotionally closed-off and inaccessible. There was a stiffness about him that didn't really translate into his body language. Just now, he reached over and was pouring himself another full glass of wine.

When had he drank the first?

L considered his own half glass which he had yet to touch. He felt the need now to down it and drown out the noise in his head. Did Raito ever feel like that? Was he perhaps feeling that way right now as he smiled believably and made casual short work of the liquid in his stemmed glass?

L tipped his glass back, drinking half of its contents. He thought to try and enter into a conversation with one of his two hosts, but he couldn't think of a thing to say. And to be honest, he didn't want to. Watari might speak on cases for a while (though L felt rather done on that topic for the moment), or he would bring up something involving Ratio (and he just did not feel up to doing battle on that field). He tossed back the rest of his wine. "I think I'm going to get some rest," he said lamely, addressing no one in particular. He felt bad that he didn't know the first thing about attempting a conversation with Celia, and that all he could say all night was things about the food being good or requesting libations. "There was a room that I was to use?" he asked her.

"Oh, of course," she said, excusing herself from the table.

"Sorry," he mumbled, so Raito could hear him, as he followed her and retreated from the over-stimulation of being social. He was so bad at it.

They shouldn't miss him, right? It's not like he was contributing much.

"Here you go," the older woman said, taking him into the short hallway and pointing him into a bedroom.

"Thank you," he said politely. _I wonder if I'll be able to sleep this off? _His head felt a mess and he was unaccustomed to dealing with such a thing. This sullen hopelessness and sharp anxiety... He just wanted it to go away.

He entered the room, looking it over. It was plain, simple, clean. There was a bed against the far wall, and a nightstand with a lamp. A closet with slat style doors remained shut. Nothing was out of place. It was a perfect guest room. It reminded him of his room at home. Functional. Utilitarian. Nothing unnecessary. Unlike the opulence of Raito's old home or the disarray of his new apartment.

"L dear?" Celia said tentatively. "Were you going to say goodbye?"

"To whom?" He looked back at her, puzzled.

"To Raito-kun?" She said with a worried frown.

"Ah, no. I just need to lie down for a while. If I miss him before waking, I'll call him later." The worry upon her face didn't lessen.

"Are you sure? Are you feeling okay?"

"It's fine." He tried to sound convincing. Casual. "Raito is more of a socialite than I am. I don't want to rush him when he's enjoying himself. We'll talk later."

Apparently his powers of persuasion needed work. She wasn't biting.

"Well, it's a pleasure to have the both of you here. I mean that. Nevermind Quillish, he is still adjusting to the idea."

L nodded. "Good evening, Celia. Thank you for everything."

He closed the door gently after she left, then fell upon the bed. "Raito's going to be annoyed," he mumbled. He knew a faintly uttered 'sorry' wasn't going to cut it, but he was overstimulated and needed the cool darkness that this room offered. He desperately wanted the equalizing oblivion of sleep. Maybe with luck, he could achieve that soon.

He'd check his phone later to see if Raito had texted him or left him a properly irritated voicemail. He just needed to zone out for a few hours. He'd contact the brunet afterwards when he felt he could deal with that.

* * *

TBC


	31. Let Go

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 31

* * *

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

**A/N:**This is a continuation of last chapter, but it had gotten too big to post in one piece. 24 pages. Yeesh.

Chapter title is a song by Red.

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 31: (Let Go)

By this time, Raito was becoming more than accustomed to Lawliet's disappearing act. It wasn't overly concerning, as he'd only retreated to the other room. But that pathetic little "sorry" was going to have to be addressed later. In detail.

Celia returned, looking sheepish. "It seems he's not feeling that well and decided to have a lie-down."

Raito smiled benignly at her. "There's no need to apologize." She seemed to think that there was something to smooth over. Or perhaps felt she needed to say something in order to spare his 'hurt' feelings? Did she think Lawliet's behavior was strange and that he'd be sitting here feeling abandoned over it? That _was _the implication, ridiculous as it was. "I'm not offended."

She looked a little flustered then. "I wasn't... Well, I didn't mean..."

"He told you not to worry and that he'd contact me later, didn't he?" Raito said pleasantly, refraining from rolling his eyes. It wasn't like they were tied at the hip and his well-being rested upon being within 5 ft. of the recalcitrant detective. It was nice that she was concerned about Lawliet making a tactical blunder in their relationship and causing an issue, but things like this he'd already learned to expect; he'd hardly be put out over it. Besides, he wasn't planning on leaving quite yet and wanted to impress upon her that he was comfortable continuing on with the two of them in Lawliet's absence.

The older woman looked a little surprised. "How did you-?"

"We know each other _quite_ well," he said meaningfully. He then adopted a somewhat conspiratorial tone, "He probably also threw in something about me being more social than he is?" He allowed his expression to show a trace of exasperated amusement and tossed in a sardonically raised eyebrow for good effect.

It wasn't a big leap to make. From how Lawliet was acting right before leaving the table, he seemed preoccupied, downtrodden and maybe a little overwhelmed. He hid it well, but there were signs. He was probably hoping to sleep it off. (Short escape though that would be).

_He's also likely to make excuses to Celia, in proportion to the excuses he didn't bother to offer__** me**__._Was it a belated sense of guilt or propriety, he wondered.

Celia was amazed. "Almost to a T, dear. However would you know something like that? Haven't you only known each other for several weeks?"

"More or less," Raito said congenially. "It must be our chemistry."

That earned him a snort from Watari. "Chemistry, my as-" he began sharply.

"Quillish," Celia promptly interrupted, with a reprimanding gaze. "Don't you dare speak that way in my home."

Watari's white mustache drooped, somewhere between defeat and annoyance. He was never going to win against Raito with Celia on his side. He mumbled an apology.

"You know," Raito offered, sipping his wine as he regarded the British man, "it could be that your constant needling is what caused Lawliet to retreat." He usually reserved use of the detective's full name to times when it was just the two of them, but he sensed an opportunity to take a jab at the older man. He knew full well how Lawliet's name tended to sound rolling off his tongue, even when he was being good, and that the evidence of intimacy would likely set the man off.

Watari's face flushed red in anger. "_This_is what I'm talking about!" He kept his outraged voice low, possibly so his protege would not hear this exchange from the other room. "You feel perfectly entitled to say and do whatever you want! And I seem to be the only one willing to challenge you on your atrocious behavior."

Raito found these words to be uncannily similar to those of his mother's disapproval. '_Atrocious behavior'._ _What have I done that could possibly seen in such a way just now?_ It was laughable and kind of irritating. "And you, Watari-san, you feel perfectly justified in all that you have said_ to_ or _about_ me? Do you really believe yourself to be upon some sort of higher ground here?"

"Yes, I do," he affirmed harshly. "You are manipulative to a fault. Even now, you're doing it."

Celia's eyes were moving back and forth between them and she was wringing her hands as if unsure of what might be done about this.

Raito raised a brow imperiously, though he kept his tone mild. "Am I out of place in saying that you have been rude to me on _numerous _occasions?"

Watari looked pissed. "And am I wrong in saying you underhandedly seduced L, and pushed things along before he had time to process whether it was _something he even wanted_?"

Raito bit down the flare of reaction he had to that, knowing he still had the upper hand if he kept his cool. "You know, this mother hen bit is getting old." He graced Watari with a mildly hostile stare. "I understand you want to protect him, that you nearly consider him your son, but you can't make all his decisions for him. He's grown, and there are things that are up to him alone, and you no longer have a say. Whether **you **like it or not."

The grinding of teeth was nearly palpable.

It was at this moment that Celia jumped in and intervened. She put a restraining hand on Watari's arm. "A word, Quillish?" she asked in a firm tone that brooked no argument. He shook off her hand and walked back to what Raito assumed was the bedroom. Celia followed close behind. She was a kind woman. That brush-off probably hurt her quite a bit.

Raito scoffed at the man. _At least __**I**__ have some tact_. He downed his wine.

He was agitated. There was so much more he'd like to have said, but he hadn't wanted to impugn his image in front of Celia. It worked _for_ him that the woman liked him and supported his relationship with Lawliet. (He needn't ruin that with sharpened words or faces, just to satisfy his aggravation at the older man.) Besides, he liked Celia. And she reminded him vaguely of his mother somehow.

Whereas Watari... the way they snapped at each other like mad dogs... he couldn't help but think of his father. Why was it that he and father figures reacted with such volatility? Maybe it was their controlling nature? Their pathological need to be right? Their unwillingness to yield or see things in another way? He couldn't help it if such traits made him antagonistic towards them.

* * *

Some time later, Celia emerged from the bedroom to find Raito dozing off upon the couch. He was sitting like a proper gentleman, but his head had tipped back slightly and his face had smoothed out in unconsciousness. He looked quite young like this, though he had a gaunt tiredness lurking about his features as if he had not slept properly for a time.

She took note of the empty wine bottle and glass on the coffee table before him and felt sympathy touch her heart. She was certain that Raito had been feeling more stress than he'd let on. Watari, who was currently holed up in their bedroom and not of a mind for further politeness to this young man, had told her what L had written in his email about the events of the past week or so. There had been turbulence with Raito's career and with the boys' relationship, not to mention the issue with Watari being so stubborn about accepting him as L's chosen partner.

She bent down slightly to rouse the brunet and found his eyes were drowsy and slow to focus upon her. _Oh my, the poor dear overindulged_, she thought. Not surprising what with everything. Who could blame him?

"I'm sorry," he apologized foggily, righting himself and smoothing hands over his clothes as if they might have been rumpled. "I must have drifted off while waiting." Raito rose and patted his pockets for his keys, still looking as uncollected as she had ever seen him, as if he was playing at being awake when he was really just a moment from dropping off again. "I should be going-"

He swayed slightly, alarming her greatly. "Dear, I think maybe you had a little too much to drink..." Her restless hands reached out to steady him.

Raito shook his head. "I'm fine," he said with a faint smile, keys finding their way into his hand. "Thank you for a lovely evening. We must do it again some time."

Celia positioned herself in front of the door, hands on her hips. The impression that he was not quite with it, but was making a good show of pretending to be fully alert was not swayed. "Raito, I must insist that you are not in a condition to drive."

He started to protest but she curtailed that. "You are not even steady on your feet," she pointed out. "I cannot in good conscience let you leave like this." She held out her hand for his keys. "You can share the room with L. If you are worried that Quillish is going to be put out over it, don't be. This is my home, after all, and you are just as welcome here as anyone."

Raito looked perplexed, but ended up laying the keys upon her palm. "If it would make you feel better..." he trailed uncertainly, his face saying he wasn't sure why she would fuss over this, but that he was inclined to humor her rather than be rude.

"I would," she affirmed. "Better safe than sorry. Heaven knows I would be beside myself if anything happened to you on your way home. It's best to err on the side of caution." She bustled past him. "I'll just get you some blankets and things."

"Thank you."

Her voice dropped to quieter tones as she pulled bedding out of the hall closet, "You can have your keys back in the morning."

He nodded and merely trailed her as she carefully opened the door to the guest room, as if to not waken L, and made up a bed for him on the floor. He noted that the guest bed was not overly large.

"There you are, dear," she said in a whisper. "If you need anything, help yourself. If you start to feel ill, there is a bathroom across the hall, and filtered water in the kitchen if you get thirsty."

"Thank you," he said again as he lay down upon the makeshift bed.

"You're welcome. Sleep tight."

Many long minutes passed in darkness after Celia left. There was only the sound of soft breathing. "You aren't asleep, are you?" Raito said, knowing very well that Lawliet was wide awake.

"No, I'm not," came the response from the bed. There was some faint rustling of fabric and the detective was peering down at him assessingly, through there couldn't have been much to see in the lack of light. "Why are you here? I thought you were leaving?"

"I drank too much, obviously."

"Seriously?"

Raito could just about picture the face that would have accompanied the query. Those black eyes would be sharp, focused on him like they could tear him open and bypass all but the barest truth, though the face that held them would be as blank and flat as his voice. It still amazed him how Lawliet could inflect things into such a deadpan tone, such as a pervasive sense of, 'I think you're full of it'.

"Your stepmother seemed concerned I was going to drive myself into a ditch or into a head-on collision," he said meaningfully.

"You don't sound drunk to me," Lawliet said skeptically.

Raito smiled in the darkness. "I assure you, I was quite convincing. But it would take more than a little wine to do me in. The empty bottle did give her pause, however."

Lawliet cursed and muttered under his breath. "I was actually worried for a minute that you'd **had** had too much to drink when you'd come in here."

"Worried that I'd be sick? How sweet of you," he mocked. "Did you think your childishness would drive me to drown my sorrows?"

His dark eyed companion started to protest with indignation.

"Or," Raito continued silkily, cutting him short, "were you worried about not resuming our earlier 'conversation'?"

Raito could tell from the quality of silence that Lawliet was flushing and floundering for words with which to curb his insidious intentions. Not that he would ever find words that could make Raito veer too far from his intended course. Raito was adamant once he set his mind to something, especially when that something, or some_one _was right before him.

"Raito, I am not getting involved with you here," Lawliet said firmly, adorably deluded that he was going to be heeded, especially with that captivating quirk that had crept into his voice... "It's a bad idea, and-"

"So you're telling me that out there on the balcony was so forgettable?" he queried, his voice conveying his lifted eyebrow. "That the passion behind those kisses just dissolved and isn't still lurking just beneath your skin?" he said, letting his voice fall into the low, rich tones that seemed to affect Lawliet so strongly. "And that the thought of continuing where we left off isn't stirring your blood, even now?"

"That's irrelevant."

Lawliet's voice sounded strained and that pleased Raito greatly.

"Forget it, Raito," he said, expelling a sigh. "Just go to sleep." He turned over on his side, putting his back to Raito with finality. "I'm not engaging in anything further under this roof. The last thing we need is to risk someone seeing through your little ruse."

The exasperation, dismissiveness, and finality were all carefully calculated. Raito could practically taste the tenseness and vulnerability in detective's turned back. Sweet Lawliet was holding him at bay, but only just.

"Oh, I fully intend to have you," Raito warned him with threats and promises twining within his words. "Just hope for your sake that you are able to keep those enticing little noises to yourself, or your family is going to have a rude awakening." He rose to his feet and moved to the bed, his pulse already quickening within him. When the detective was adamant about refusing him, it just made him relish the chase that much more thoroughly. "For the record, I don't mind either way."

He crawled onto the bed, eyes locked with Lawliet's petulant ones in the dark. "How are you holding up, fighting with yourself like this?"

The detective shook his head, glaring at Raito in annoyance.

Raito slinked closer, then braced an arm on either side of him, fencing him in. "Don't tell me you weren't affected earlier," he said huskily, "I know you were." He had Lawliet on his back and was looming over him. The slighter man was stubbornly shaking his head. "You _were_, Lawliet, I could feel you stirring against me."

* * *

"Must you say things like that?" L protested with annoyance, his cheeks flushing.

Raito leaned in and kissed heated skin. "Why?" he murmured, hunting the detective's mouth. "It's the truth, isn't it?" Before L could offer another empty protest, he snaked a hand between L's legs and squeezed. "Just like now."

L's eyes fluttered closed. "Please..." he said in a strained voice. "Raito, let this be." Fighting the brunet off like this was taking an inordinate amount of will, and his resolve was already flagging.

Raito's mouth sought and melded with his, bleeding away his useless words. He moaned as Raito caressed him firmly, not about to let him escape.

God, he wanted to...  
_  
I shouldn't. I can't. Not here. Why does this keep happening?_ He used to think his self-possession was second to none, yet he was shown over and over again how easily it could be dismantled.

Raito sat up, straddling his hips and began unbuttoning his shirt. The pressure of the other man's weight upon his throbbing flesh was undoing his resolve. Against his will, his hips rocked upwards and he couldn't stop the sigh that spilled from his lips.

"That's better," the brunet murmured, spreading hands across his chest and rolling his hips against L's.

_No..._ "Yes," L breathed.  
_  
I'm going to lose my mind,_he thought. His body was trembling, speared with desire. Raito was leaning forward, nuzzling the flesh of his neck, hands ever busy.

A fog-like haze swept over his mind and he was becoming muddled. He felt industrious hands undoing the button to his slacks and he craved their touch.

Raito sank down upon him, bringing their flesh into heated contact that was as maddeningly intoxicating as their kisses. Lips and teeth and tongues were locked in an intricate dance that was echoed in the writhing of their thrumming bodies and restless hips.

When Raito rolled them over, placing L on top, L blinked at him questioningly. "I'm feeling charitable tonight," Raito said solicitously, head tilting arrogantly as he looked up at L with bedroom eyes.

L was slow to react as meaning trickled belatedly through his clouded brain. Raito didn't seem inclined to wait for that process to reach its conclusion. He pulled L down, crushing his lips to his own once more.

This sort of communication made more immediate sense to L's passion-befuddled mind. He kissed back, feeling the brunet ceding control to him, and understood then that Raito was giving him the lead if he wanted it.

His arousal throbbed at even the thought of it, and he lost no time expressing his interest in the offer. His hands wandered over the brunet's smooth, firm skin, memorizing his torso, his chest. He traced the curve of strong collarbones with his lips as he pushed Raito's pants further down his hips and over his thighs. It was overwhelming, the intensity of this desire. To be privy to this sort of closeness once more... to be able to feel, once more, the brunet open up to him and embrace him so tightly with arms and flesh. To feel those long legs slide apart for him...

He found Raito's hot mouth and sank into it, plunging deep into the silky heat of it, reveling in the sensual movement of their tongues.

Their naked flesh was hard and tight between them, pulsing as their hips ground together. It was an exquisite sort of torture, this precursor to the consummation they both craved. This alone felt so good it was hard to stop.

L soon lost the ability to hold back. He nipped at Raito's neck as he slid two saliva-slicked fingers into him, egged on by the way the brunet's breath came faster and his body writhed. He hooked his fingers and stroked upwards, like Raito had done to him, and was rewarded by the most enticing of sounds, which the brunet was doing his damnedest to suppress.

"Not so keen to have others hear _you_, are you?" L said huskily in the brunet's ear.

"Shut up and do it already," came the cantankerous reply, his voice thick with desire.

L couldn't help wanting to tease him. Raito was so obviously feeling this every bit as much as he was, though he seemed sullen about admitting it. "What if I want to play with you some more?" He nibbled lightly on Raito's ear and slowly thrust his fingers in and out, making him shudder. In truth, he found it inordinately difficult to sound in-control of himself and to hold back like this, but... "I think I like seeing you look this way," he confessed, kissing the other's mouth deeply to keep the expected acidic reply unvoiced.

* * *

Raito fought free of Lawliet's hold (though his body protested and proclaimed him insane), breaking the debilitating kiss and stilling that treacherous hand. He suspected the dark-haired man was thinking to make him lose hold of himself, just like this. His pride wouldn't allow that. This was getting easier, being 'submissive' with Lawliet, but it was still somewhat foreign to him and suppressing his dominant streak could be quite difficult. He ran his fingers through jagged black locks of hair and pulled Lawliet's head down so he could speak in his ear. "Your window of opportunity is narrowing, Lawliet," he said indulgently, sounding more breathy than he would have liked while threatening him.

He loved how quickly he could make the other man react to him at times. Just a few words, and uncertainty infected Lawliet's actions and demeanor. He might feel guilty for such a thing, but he was becoming certain that his partner could become more than used to leading these sorts of encounters if he ever got his feet under him so to speak. He liked Lawliet having that red thread of doubt which he could tug at whenever he wished.

However, it was so very interesting to see his partner evolve like this.

"You're not very passive for being on the bottom," his detective complained. He sounded just a little sullen, but he was by no means cowed. He might even have been looking for a way to get even.

"You like me aggressive," Raito said flippantly.

He grit his teeth a moment later, hands digging into his lover's shoulders as Lawliet began to slide slowly inside of him. This especially, he wasn't used to, but the euphoric look on Lawliet's face, half obscured by his dark hair was worthwhile.

"I suppose I do," Lawliet panted, pausing after he had pushed in to his limit. His pale skin shone like a beacon in the darkness, a slight sheen of sweat reflecting in the faint moonlight. His eyes were twin orbs of deepest black and his kiss-bruised lips looked delicious.

Ratio dragged that mouth to his, making every movement as dirty and scandalous as he could.

Lawliet moaned against his lips, and Raito could feel his desire swell inside him. "Well, come on then," he taunted him, his own body responding even more strongly to evidence of the detective's lust. "You'll have me falling asleep at this rate." He rolled his hips encouragingly, biting his lip as sensation eddied through him. _Jesus._

"You're so... impatient," Lawliet said thickly, beginning to move within him in slow, sure thrusts.

Raito dug his fingers into the flesh beneath his hands. He wanted more. Lawliet was trying to punish him with this reserved pace, he was sure. He guided one of the detective's hands to his aching flesh. "So what?" he breathed. "Hard and fast is fine every once in a while." His eyes closed as Lawliet's slender fingers worked his sensitive skin almost expertly, while he continued to stroke him from the inside. _He really is a fast learner._

He could nearly give himself up to this, losing his reservations about who was in control of what. It just felt so good, the details didn't seem to matter.

Lips grazed his, and he felt the ache in him intensify as Lawliet's hot mouth melded with his own. The pace was still so infuriatingly slow, but perfect somehow. He was becoming lost in the rolling motion of their hips, the pleasure of that angular hand, and the taste of passion on his tongue.

_Oh, you bastard,_ he thought hazily.  
_  
I really could be satisfied with this._

It was infecting him. Lawliet was inside him, toying with his inner workings. He had no right, really. Only that he must have given Lawliet the keys somewhere along the way. Even now, he felt it - the impending wave of release rising far above his head, threatening to smash into him with incredible force. It was amazing to him how strongly he'd been able to feel for Lawliet, unlike anyone else. And here, the caveat, Lawliet was even able to make him like something like this which he'd long ago decided he had no use for. Insidious.

He grit his teeth as orgasm hit him, every bit as harshly as promised, and it was inordinately difficult to smother the sound of it. He clenched his teeth into Lawliet's shoulder, knowing no kiss would bear this force. He came with a muffled groan, feeling every inch of Lawliet within him, driving the sensations as he continued to move.

Hot lips grazed his neck, dragging kisses and heated breath, stirring him up further. Then Lawliet's mouth was opening against his throat, latching onto his flesh with strong teeth and repaying him in kind as his own body shuddered violently.

* * *

"What a pair we are," Raito said a little while later, after they'd caught their breath, half sitting up and tilting his head a bit awkwardly in order to assess the bite wound on his shoulder. It looked much like the one he'd left on Lawliet's. "Matching teeth marks."

"Well, it hurt," the dark-haired man said unrepentantly, lying lazily on his side next to him. "I figured I owed you."

Raito rubbed at the mark. "Not directly, you didn't." It hurt, but he didn't really mind. He actually found it kind of amusing. "You could have waited a while," he suggested playfully, "then whipped it out like an ace up your sleeve to spice things up a bit when they became dull."

Lawliet rolled over onto his back, his arms falling haphazardly beside him. "Any more spice would probably kill me."

Raito propped his chin on his hand and gazed at him, smiling benignly. "These are times of plenty. How about when you get bored?"

Dark eyes regarded him blandly. "You really think that's a concern? I think you underestimate yourself."

"Of course I don't." His smile turned smug. "I'm just teasing; but I must have exhausted you too thoroughly for you to have noticed it." He spared no effort in making his voice as suggestive and goading as possible, trying to elicit an embarrassed response. "I didn't even get a proper blush out of you."

"Blush?" The detective laughed shortly, ignoring the brunet's ego-stroking at his expense, thereby winning their game of wordplay. "Not after what we just did."

"See?" Raito complained lazily. "I can't even bait you properly." He slanted calculating eyes towards his companion. "How long until you go back to normal?"

"Mmn." Lawliet closed his eyes and settled in like he was going to fall fast asleep in seconds. Raito's pestering was falling on deaf ears. He must have been feeling too peaceful and contented to pay it much mind, though it was a point of contention for the brunet. "Maybe after I sleep a little while."

Raito poked his index finger into a pale, smooth cheek in a rude fashion. "And you call yourself an insomniac."

"No, I don't," the drowsy insomniac mumbled, swatting his hand away in a languid motion. "I can fall asleep just fine. I just don't require a lot of it."

"Hmm," Raito replied in a thoughtful purr. He traced the dark circle beneath the detective's right eye. "Then what do you suppose these are from?" It was perfectly obvious he didn't get enough sleep on a regular basis.

"Stress from dealing with you?" he murmured, unconsciousness lapping away at his enunciation.

"An interesting theory, but a flawed one," Raito said archly, turning aside his deadpan jibe. It really entertained him that Lawliet was bothering with this inane conversation, indulging him by answering even though he was about to drop out any second. "For these were firmly in place before I even met you."

Lawliet's frustration at being kept awake finally broke the surface. "Mn tired, Raito..."

Feeling appeased now that he'd gotten a reaction, Raito smiled, a glint in his eye. He also sensed an opportunity to goad his companion further. "What's it worth to you?"

The detective groaned in exasperation and rolled over, jamming the pillow over his head.

Raito decided to leave him be, and lay back with his hands beneath his head, totally at peace with the world. He allowed his eyes to drift shut. Lawliet was so delightfully entertaining. He really couldn't have picked anyone better. He'd joked about boredom setting in, but he really didn't think that it would.

Fatigue flirted with his consciousness, and he knew sleep would eventually consume him as well. Until then, various thoughts flickered through his mind. One of which was the solidifying of their current situation. They hadn't talked about it yet, but he got the feeling that much of Lawliet's resistance to living with him had diminished. He was certain of it. Or at least, he had been until Watari started talking to him about new living conditions. This had caused his detective to become less decisive. He didn't like that. It made him feel threatened.  
_  
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll ask him again._

He sighed. Even if Lawliet decided that they should maintain separate living spaces, he had to respect that choice. Even if it irritated him. Even if he thought it was ridiculous.  
_  
I have to respect his autonomy.__  
_  
To put it into perspective, he considered Misa, who would blindly do anything he asked. She only thought things through insofar as to get something she wanted. Lawliet, on the other hand, would defy him on principle or because he felt his independence was compromised. He didn't always go with what was easy. If he did, he could have avoided countless arguments just by agreeing to move in with him. And looking back, they were in a much better position now for living together than they would have been when he'd first suggested it.

It had been hellish, but they'd been steadily hacking through some of the issues in their relationship, making it more viable and stable.

Raito knew his own jealousy and control issues had played their part in damaging things, but so had Lawliet's mistrust.

So, while he was learning more restraint over newly intense feelings, his companion was learning to believe in him. It was working out great so far. These last few days had been...

He stretched lazily and rolled over onto his side, throwing an arm around his bedmate and pulling him close. These past few days, it was as if he was finally seeing his life come together. He'd never really considered such things as whether he was happy or not. But recently, he was suspecting that he was and that, before, he'd merely been surviving with no purpose.  
_  
What if I had never met you?  
_  
He buried his face against Lawliet's warm body. It was a somewhat horrifying thought. If Misa had never laughingly pointed out the eccentric, dark-haired man at the bar that night, might he have gone unnoticed? Might they have never met? And then at this juncture, it could have been that harpy he was sharing a bed with as he counted his days like a prison sentence. Married. Wasting away. Living only for his work.

Though I didn't know anything more, until meeting you.

He smoothed the thoughts from his head, being that they weren't very restful at all, and settled more comfortably against the slight form he held against him.

It was ironic. He'd never really believed in such sentiments as love, and here he'd found someone that he'd totally fallen for.  
_  
I wonder if I should tell him?_he thought with wry amusement just as he was drifting off to sleep.

* * *

TBC


	32. For the Best

**PITCH**

Light x L

Part 32

* * *

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

**A/N:** Happy Holidays to you all!

**Disclaimer:** (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

* * *

Pitch: (def.)

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. _They must be challenged._

* * *

Part 32: (For the Best)

Dawn had begun seeping through the windows when Celia awoke the next morning well before Watari would be roused from sleep. It was usually this way; the man tended to sleep quite deeply for many more hours than she herself needed. She smiled to herself as she bustled around the room silently, combing her hair, donning her robe, and making her side of the bed.

_He really is a dear man_, she thought as she stopped to look down upon him in repose. He was indeed horribly overprotective over L-kun, but his caring for the boy was one of the things that had drawn her to him. Just like any proud parent, his face changed as he'd spoken of him and showed a capacity for selflessness and love that was not commonplace in just anyone.

_It's a shame we didn't meet a few years earlier_. How nice might that have been to know you had your whole life ahead of you with someone you fancied at your side?

She bent over to peck his cheek and saw his mustache swish as his lips formed a fleeting smile.

Not wishing to further rouse him, she crept quietly from the room to see how her guests were getting on. L-kun, she knew, did not sleep more than a wink. He at least should be awake by now and probably itching for something to do. She should have offered him the use of Quillish's laptop last night, at least, but she hadn't thought of it at the time. Of Raito-kun, she wasn't sure, but he might very well be asleep, so she eased the door open without knocking and called out softly, "L-kun? Are you awake, dear?"

Silence met her gentle query. They couldn't _both_be asleep, could they? "L-kun?" she called again, a touch louder.

Still, there was no response.

She decided to take a peek into the room to make sure everything was ok.

When the door had swung open enough for her to pop her head in around it, she was taken aback by what she saw. She certainly hadn't been expecting _this_.

"R-Raito-kun? L-kun?"

On the bed, which was both empty and tidily made up once more, was a slip of paper. The bedding she'd lain out for Raito the night previous was folded neatly in a stack upon the floor.

She moved into the room with a worried frown on her face and picked up the perplexing piece of parchment paper. It was a page from one of her notebooks she had lying about the apartment. It read:  
_  
'Dearest Celia,  
Thank you again for inviting us into your home, and for a lovely evening._

The way it was written sounded more like Raito-kun than L-kun. Had the brunet penned the note, then?  
_  
We apologize for taking our leave prior to your waking, but felt it was for the best.  
Watari can be stubborn and set in his ways, as you surely know by now.  
_  
That part sounded like L-kun...

_But he is a good man whom you make very happy.__  
Please tell him to take good care of you, and to find a place to live which suits you both._

(P.S. Germany is lovely this time of year.)

_**L**_

At the end was an intricate, gothic style 'L' perfectly drawn in with black ink.

Celia took the note and folded it gently, tucking it into the pocket of her robe. "Oh, dear," she said to herself, feeling a touch scattered. "Oh, dear. Quillish, I do believe they may have just eloped."

She drifted into the kitchen, determined to find something stunning to make for breakfast which might help her break the news. Pancakes were probably not going to cut it.

* * *

L stared fixedly at the road, his expression tight with concentration. His eyes flicked over to the car's other occupant now and then. "Raito, are you certain that now is really the best time for this?"

"Of course. You didn't want to be there when they woke up, did you?"

"I'm not referring to that," he said impatiently. "Or the note," he added.

"What then?"

L gave Raito a long-suffering look. It was brief, however, as his eyes invariably gravitated back to the road. Raito was currently tapping out a message on his phone. L knew it was the email to Misa, which he himself had requested, but he couldn't be properly happy about it given the time and place. "You know, I'd be glad to do that for you, and let you drive unimpeded."

"Don't be ridiculous, you're doing fine. And there are hardly any cars out at this time anyway."

L grit his teeth and gripped the steering wheel tighter, the object feeling foreign beneath his hands. Raito had the strangest sense of timing. All of a sudden, he insisted that he needed to send the email to Misa at that very moment and that it should be a simple matter for someone of L's caliber to steer a car for but a few moments until he was done. L found, however, that Raito was taking his time on the email and this, in fact, had become his introduction in learning to drive. Raito had no intention of taking over the wheel again.

"Well, here is one concession," Raito said, "You are a much quicker study at this than cooking."

"And yet, it is almost as nerve-wracking." L wasn't sold on Raito's 'sink-or-swim' style of driving instruction. All he'd really done is point out the mirrors, help him put the car in gear, and tell him to avoid hitting anyone.

Raito waved the comment off. "So, Germany, is it?"

"Watari liked it there. And I think Celia might as well."

"And you're sure you don't want to go with them if that is what they decide to do?"

L frowned slightly, fielding the question even as he maneuvered in front of a large blue truck. "It's not that I don't want to." He paused, searching for words. "But I think that a separation is best. We need to establish the delineation between our lives. He needs to focus on building one with Celia, and I need to focus on surviving _you_."

"I'll do my best to ensure you need every scrap of mental fortitude you possess to accomplish it."

"Bastard," L muttered without real malice. He chewed distractedly at the inside of his lip as he studied the patterns of traffic which were thickening around them.

Raito had stopped typing and was lounging in the passenger seat, looking out the window in a relaxed fashion. L suspected that he had finished composing the email to his ex-fiancee and was merely withholding that information. He certainly seemed set on L completing this journey on his own. Actually sending the mail and thus finalizing his break with Misa was L's carrot - his motivation (aside from not getting killed) for keeping this car on the road and pointed the proper way.

"Have you decided whether or not you are going to find your own place to live?" Raito asked.

"Yes."

"Oh, I see."

L glanced at Raito and saw no change in his demeanor, but he knew full well what the brunet was getting at. It was apparent in his careful questioning over Watari, Celia, and living abroad. What he really wanted to know is if L was willing to live with _him_.

"Your new place is small," L said.

Raito glanced at him in surprise. "You think so?"

L nodded, eyes on the road.

"It's comparable to my previous residence," Raito trailed. "Though it lacks some of the amenities."

"How long are you tied into your lease?"

"That depends on what I'm willing to pay to break it, and if I'd have any help in re-packing and moving all those boxes we just unpacked."

L cursed under his breath. "I'll make you a deal."

Raito raised a brow. "This ought to be good."

"I'll pay for you to break your lease, if you pay for a mover to pack all of your things and move them." L paused. "And unpack them again."

"And where might I tell them to bring these boxes, Oh Lazy Detective?" Raito's lightly mocking voice sounded pleased.

"How am I supposed to know? We'll have to find a place, right?"

"House shopping already?" Now L could detect a smirk in Raito's tone. Oh yes, he was quite pleased. "Are we to pick out curtains next?"

"Bite me."

"Not advisable in a moving vehicle, Lawliet," he teased. "You'd be surprised at the statistics on how many cars have run off the road or become embroiled in accidents due to just such circumstances."

"What do you think the statistics are on two highly intellectual people not killing each other during cohabitation?"

"Very low, unless they are sleeping together."

"Oh, how convenient for us, then."

"Agreed."

L let a few moments pass in silence before saying accusingly, "You have an answer for everything, don't you?"

"Well, I don't like to brag..." Raito trailed in a jokingly self-important tone.

They passed the next half hour or so pretty easily, with only one or two near-collisions, both of which L insisted were not his fault.

"Raito, it comes to mind that you are forcing me to learn to drive as some sort of attempt to show willingness on your part to let me be independent."

"You've seen through me," Raito said drolly. "And?"

"And, while I appreciate the gesture, I also do not feel I would be rejecting the overture by preferring never to do it again..."

"You're asking me if I would be offended if you chose never to drive again?"

"Er..." L said. "In short, yes?"

"Come on, it isn't that bad, is it?" Raito said placatingly. "The semi was obviously in the wrong on that last one."

"I don't think that would have made the car any less susceptible to folding like an aluminum can," L pointed out. "From what I have seen thus far on the road, Might Makes Right. It's deplorable. I don't want to be part of it."

"Hmm," Raito said. "What I shame then that the whole world operates on that principle as well."

"No, it doesn't." L was emphatic.

"Doesn't it?" Raito countered.

"There are such things as justice in the world."

"If you look hard enough, I suppose," Raito ceded.

"Once again, I think your world view is alarmingly pessimistic and dark."

"It's realism, Lawliet. I've been living in the thick of things for some time now, whereas you - and I know this will irk you to hear - have been living an exceedingly sheltered life."

"Either that, or you have been choosing to live in the underbelly of society, and thus have a skewed view of things," L suggested flippantly. Raito was right, being called 'sheltered' irked him.

L watched Raito rake a hand through his shiny hair in a gesture of agitation. There were times that this could be taken to mean they were on the precipice of a fight.

Raito picked his phone up again, which had been resting on his knee, and pressed a few buttons. The sound that indicated a message had just been sent sounded and he said, "For the sake of peace, for now let's just agree to disagree."

L shrugged and agreed, surprised at such a diplomatic approach from the brunet.

"You know what, Raito?" L said. "I think this is going to work."

* * *

END

**A/N:**And there you have it! A positive note for the DN boys to end on, and hopefully a happy enough ending for everyone to find acceptable. I left some things somewhat unresolved, as neat and tidy endings irk me a bit, and I feel it lets you imagine a few details on your own as to how certain things may turn out.

A friend of mine pointed out the other day that my _'attempt at a short story'_ (PITCH was supposed to be a short story originally) was an epic failure, emphasis on EPIC. Because it is just as long, if not longer than A Balm For Social Failure! (omg.)

If anyone is into **Supernatural**, you might give my new fic _**Asylum**_ a try. (It is yaoi/slash.) I will be posting it soon.

I hope you enjoyed the story.

Thanks to all who reviewed!


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